


taste of a poison paradise

by h___ana



Category: IZONE (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h___ana/pseuds/h___ana
Summary: Chaewon doesn't seem like the possessive type, and honestly, you don't think these emotions that stem out of insecurity paint a good picture on anyone — but jealous Kim Chaewon is hot, and she proves you wrong twice in one night.
Relationships: Kim Chaewon (IZONE)/Kim Minju
Comments: 40
Kudos: 173





	1. poison paradise

<3

  
  
  


You hate parties. No, that's a lie. You actually love parties — a little too much, as your parents would say. A little too much, and now you're barred from holding parties at home without having all of your freedom taken away for a month. You love your freedom more than you love parties, so you play by their rules. 

Not that you want to, but what choice do you have? Your reputation mattered a _lot_ to them, after all. They couldn't have their precious princess bringing shame to the family name. 

You love it. 

The bass thrums through your veins. You can't distinguish between your heartbeat and the harsh resonance of the music. It comes alive in you. _Forever_ , if only this feeling would last forever. It makes you feel powerful. You get to see everyone — everyone, regardless of their class—their wealth—their social status—whatever, you could see every single one of them lose themselves in a trance.

Intoxicated, just like you. 

All one of a kind. You were looking for an escape, everyone was looking for an escape. Hyewon held the best parties — second to you, of course, but you're not exactly in the running for that title anymore. Sometimes you would stop and pause to see the ecstasy on these nameless faces. You would take in the faces of these strangers. 

How easy it was to appease to them. 

  
  
  


It's not long before your perfect little bubble pops.

Expensive cologne infused with the smell of booze dousing his body. His arms wrap around you.

Right. Your parents would never let you go to a party on your own. Honestly, you don't understand why they expect you to abide with their restrictions. Everytime they deny you one of your little escapes, it only makes you want to pursue it more. Defiance; didn't they see that you just wanted to rub your lack of compliance in their faces? For people who claim to know you better than yourself, they weren't doing a great job, were they? 

They tell you he's a good match for you. 

  
  


_“He cares for you, he's had a crush on you ever since you were children! Better yet, he's well-mannered, he knows business, he would treat you like a princess! He's tall, blonde and handsome—Minjoo, can't you see that you two are meant to be? I mean, you guys were childhood lovers too,”_  
  
  


No, actually: you were _absolutely_ not. You cannot see Hyunjin in a romantic light for the love of god. When they feed you all the bullshit of you two being “soulmates” or “a match made in heaven” you know what they're _really_ saying: he's rich, he's going to take over his dad's company when he gets older, he's going to be our ticket to expanding the business so you better do your best to get into his pants. 

There was no need for you to even _bother_ lifting a finger. 

He was so damn obsessed with you already. If anything, he should be the one trying harder to woo you. 

If he was, well, clearly he wasn't doing a good job. Your eyes wouldn't be desperate to catch a sight of her in the mindless crowd if he was doing a good job. 

  
  


His arms wrap around you and you would rip them off if it weren't for the annoyance you caught spreading on her face from over there, leaning back onto the staircase as she downed another cup of punch. There she stood, far enough to be out of your sight yet close enough to see the wicked smile cover your face as your hands covered his. She doesn't like it. You know. You can tell. 

You watch as she crushes the red solo cup in her fist. She busies herself in a conversation with some nobody but you know. You're on her mind. 

You won't leave her mind. 

His grip tightens around your waist. You draw a clear line, did he not know that?

He throws his hands up. _Ugh_ , you hate the dumb drunken look on his face. The way he raises his brows. You hate the drawl of his voice and the ludicrous smile creeping onto his lips. “Hey, I mean…” 

“We're gonna end up together sooner or, or later, Min. _Is_ , _is_ not a bad idea to like, prepare or whatever,” You don't — you can't make out the gibberish that comes out his mouth. 

_This_ is who your parents want you to be with? You have standards, for god's sake. You will not stoop this low just to satisfy their greed. 

  
  


But for your own greed? 

  
  


She never _looks_ at you. She never pays enough attention to you when you’re out in public and you hate it _so much_. She should know how frustrated you are. You should teach her.

No one ignores Kim Minjoo and gets away with it. 

You want to push her to her very limits.

Fuck it, you want to drive her insane. 

  
  


You take hold of his hands and lean up to whisper in his ear. Hopefully in his stupor he doesn’t try to decipher your words, you’re just saying anything in the moment. You might’ve as well told him you kept keeping his hopes up just to piss Chaewon off. He has that goofy grin on his face. 

Bless his poor soul. He makes it so much easier for you.

Your phone lights up. 

  
  


_Don’t you think you’re taking it a little too far?_

_What's it to you?_

_Everyone is going to think you're dating him._

_You know they already think that._

_There's no harm in fueling false beliefs, is there?_

  
  


For your own greed, you'll do anything. 

  
  
  
  


Everyone you know is secretly rooting for you and him to get together—from your parents to his parents to your friends, your classmates, even random strangers in the street calling you a cute couple when you were outside with him. It was fucking hilarious, if nothing but downright miserable. Why were they so invested in a relationship they knew nothing about? 

No, actually, you'd rather not know the reasons. 

But you won't lie. You looked good together. Everyone knows, and you always make sure to put on the performance of your lifetime for Chaewon to know too.

  
  


Unsurprisingly, you love subverting the expectations the entire world has on you: you love doing everything that is not expected of you, the daughter of a rich businessman with round innocent eyes and a charming smile. Chaste, pure, fragile little Kim Minjoo.

You wonder what your parents would think of Chaewon, sometimes. Rather than her as a person, you wonder how they'd feel finding out this “nobody”, as they told you time and time again, was more than just your friend — wait, did they even know what friends with benefits meant? You could not beat around the bush and simply say she's your fuck buddy: then, dear lord, you could say goodbye to all the fortunes you were promised. A heartbeat. You'd lose it all in a heartbeat. They were already displeased with you being a bit… _odd_ (read: bi) and you didn't want to test their patience. 

The rest of the night is mostly uneventful, aside from you trying your best to smite Chaewon despite being slightly buzzed from the music and your friends persistently asking if you were finally giving Hyunjin a chance because he looked like he won the lottery or something and was too busy rubbing it in his friends' faces. 

_Rubbing what in their faces?_  
  


You don't even have to lift a finger. The universe likes you a little too much, you think. 

Felix, was it? Hyunjin looked like he was going to kill him as he tried to shut his friend up. 

“Ay, my boy Hyunjin's finally getting laid again tonight, guys!” Felix must have a death wish because Hyunjin shoves him to the ground the second he shouts. It's amusing, the cheering, the whistles (howling) , the sparse applause that follows. He looked so embarrassed. Pity on his soul.

You don't even have to lift a finger. 

These idiots do all the work for you.

  
  


_Parked by the last house on the block_

_Don't take too long, okay?_

  
  


—

  
  


Chaewon isn’t the possessive type. 

Basing off her personality, the way she acts when she’s with you, her demeanor on campus: you pinned her down to be more docile and understanding, not possessive. But sometimes, you have to be wrong too and you can’t deny that being wrong this time wasn’t so bad. 

Honestly, you don’t think jealousy paints a good picture on anyone. You hate the idea of anyone being so insecure in their sense of self that they would mistrust their partner and let envy reign over their thoughts. 

She uses her head to think. Not her heart. She wouldn’t seem like the jealous type. 

She wouldn't seem that way and for once, you are so glad you're wrong because _fuck_ , she looks so hot. Jealousy looks good on Kim Chaewon. You think anything would look good on Kim Chaewon. 

(Maybe she's like this only when it comes to you. Only you.)

You ignore that train of thought.

“Where are we going?” 

“I don't know.” 

Was it indifference? Her head rested on her hand perched up, one hand casual on the steering wheel. Her tone was indifferent. She wouldn't spare you a glance. “I'll drop you home before it's 3, don't worry.”

Even as you bite your lips, you can't help the frown breaking out on your face. 

Chaewon liked you too much for her own good and a part of you wishes that she didn't. Everything about her was completely different from the world you immerse yourself in. She must hate herself for getting entangled with the likes of you. And now, she's too far in to even look back. What a shame. You wouldn't want to be in her shoes.

She must be frustrated at the situation she's in. A double bind she constructed for herself, that seems rather masochistic. To want more than she allowed herself to take—wanting more, but too much of a coward to choose. Wanting more and cursing the boundaries she set for herself.

Her dissonance is something you try not to make sense of. 

You wonder if tonight will push her to take a decision — to finally understand what she truly wants. (It should be you, of course. It had to be.) 

You don't expect anyone to call you and least of all you don't expect for him to be calling you this late into the night. Well. Would tonight finally push her to her limits?

You could only wait and see. 

(You want it to, so you put in your best efforts.)

“Hey, Hyun.”

It's easy to pretend. 

You pretend not to catch sight of her jaw clenching as she twisted her hands on the steering wheel. “No, just with a friend.” 

In your defense, you were (not) trying your best to whisper — the silence in the car wasn't your fault, if it bothered her that much all she had to do was turn up the radio. She doesn't, and you know she won't. You try not to smile. “It's okay, I'm not upset. I know he was messing with you,”

You don't notice when she pulls up, you don't know where you are. Her voice is gentle, careful not to ripple across the silence. “Get in the back when you're done,” and you're half surprised she doesn't slam the door shut. 

She wasn't that kind of person, anyway.

  
  
  


-

  
  
  


Minjoo almost fails to close the door shut with Chaewon kissing her persistently, her hands guiding her hips to straddle her lap. Why, why was it so: why the tightening grip on her waist when she pulls back for a second of air, fingertips trailing from the hem of her shorts along her thighs when she bites her bottom lip, the desperation obvious on her tongue as she kissed deeper, senseless. 

“I wanted to do that the whole night,” she breathes, her breath fanning against Minjoo's throat. She doesn't say anything. Minjoo's hands cup her face, her thumb brushing against her jawline. She pulls her in for another kiss. 

Minjoo feels nails sink into her skin, so she doesn't expect for Chaewon to pull away literally two seconds later. “Wait, wait, I…”

God, why did she have to be so frustrating? No one likes interruptions and Minjoo particularly liked how she tasted tonight: her strawberry chapstick blending in with the spiked punch from the party. 

She raises a brow. 

“You…?”

“I don't want you to…” she trails off because Minjoo was drawing crosses against the sweet spots on her neck and it was _distracting_. _Everything_ , everything about her was distracting. “Why were you acting with him like that?”

She chuckles.

“Why, should I not act that way? Did it bother you?” Her hands move to Chaewon's scalp, threading through her short locks and staring down at her with a challenging gaze. That smirk on her lips. 

Chaewon wonders when she gave her all this power over her. 

“Aren't you the one who says you'd rather be an incel your entire life than date him?”

She doesn't like how Chaewon ignores her question. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“ _Really_?”

“Well, you know how my parents are.”

Then, Minjoo does what she does best. Distracting Chaewon from her problems, wrapping her arms around her neck to pull her in closer, slipping her tongue into her mouth and whining at the loss of slightest contact, always enough to force her thoughts into overdrive. _She's so needy._

She presses wet kisses along Minjoo's jaw. The girl tugs on her hair when her fingers hook the waistband of her shorts. She pulls her in closer, if it was even physically possible, holding onto her like she would be taken away any moment. Chaewon makes sure to kiss every single inch of her neck, sucking at the soft skin and fuck it, she was going to leave marks even if she would hate her the next morning. Minjoo bites back a moan when Chaewon nips at that one spot right beside her pulse and when she hears a demanding _don't do that_ in her ear it seems to please her, she captures her lips in a kiss again, moaning into it, as if it was just for her. 

Her hand slips under her shirt and her lips to her collarbones, pulling her shirt down to get to her cleavage, leaving open mouthed kisses on her chest. Chaewon drags her teeth, harshly, her mind clouded as she gasps her name for every new spot she focuses on. 

She's held back by her shoulders. Wait, it wasn't supposed to go this way. This was a serious conversation in her mind, why does Minjoo mess up everything she plans out? She's so good at diversions. Chaewon hates it. 

Minjoo's hands reach for the hem of her shirt but Chaewon stops her. Maybe underneath her lust filled gaze, her half lidded eyes were glaring at her. Chaewon can't tell. She sucks in a deep breath.

“Did you sleep with him?”  
  
  


Minjoo scoffs. Leaning back, she crosses her arms and frowns at the accusation. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

She didn't want to get confrontational or anything, she was just asking. Her thumbs rub circles on her skin, coaxing her to understand. “You didn't show up the last two times I called you over. Those last two times you had posted about being with him. And that bastard's friend, whoever the fuck he is, he—”

“Felix?”

“I dunno, is that his name? He said—”

Minjoo interjects by holding her face, putting a hand under her chin and moving her head side to side. She laughs and Chaewon looks on in confusion. “You know what, you kinda look like him…”

“No I—,” fuck Minjoo and her diversions, really, “Nah, he said Hyunjin was getting laid again, for the second time, so I'm asking, did you fuck him?”

“Should I not, Chae?” Her fingertips ghost across her arms to the death grip she has on her waist, settling to feel the tension in her forearms. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

And she doesn't like how long Chaewon takes to answer. “See, _Chaewonie_ , if you want me, then you should really,”

Her hands slip under Chaewon's arms to reach for the ends of her shirt. She makes sure she's slow, agonizingly so, she makes sure she doesn't rush, she tries to take in the darkening of her eyes. 

“Really, really act like it.” Minjoo throws her shirt off and Chaewon knows she is so far fucking gone, dear god. 

“ _Fuck_ , you're so hot…” she whispers again and lets her greedy hands touch the expanse of Minjoo's _so_ delicate skin. They kiss again, and again, and again, Chaewon feels like every touch is fire, every time her lips met her body it was electricity flowing through her veins, the look in her eyes, and good lord, her voice, her moans, her whimpers all for her, only for her. It was too much, it was too fucking much. She shifts their positions until she's hovering over her, so eager to please, so eager to worship the sight of Minjoo. 

She pauses for a moment to take her shirt off, wanting to feel her skin against Minjoo's, looking into her eyes, “Why do you need him when you have me, hmm?”

It feels wrong to see her like this, lips bruised and face flushed, catching her breath. The way she stared up at her felt like sin. Her fingers trace the faint muscles of her abdomen and it was just wrong, how she never loses the composure to give her a condescending smirk. “At least he's emotionally available to me.”

Fair enough.

What does Chaewon make of her words? 

She doesn't know. The girl ghosts a smile against her lips but her hands are harsh, in a hassle fiddling with the buttons of her shorts and when she grinds down into her she's harsh, she savours the whimper that leaves Minjoo's lips and it only fuels her desires, to push to the brink, to force her to cross her tipping point. 

_You should teach her a lesson._

She treads lightly against her inner thigh, her mouth hot against pink nipples and she wonders if Minjoo was truly what perfection could be, perfection to her, only what she could see, perfection that only she could understand. “Don't—, _Chae_ ,”

And she halts, pausing for a moment to listen. “Don't what, baby,”

She groans, running her hands across the girl's chest, hoping she would understand. Chaewon feels drunk, intoxication taking over again. Minjoo's eyes glimmer in the darkness and she waits. “Don't tease…”

Then, she watches her eyes flutter shut as she drives a finger into her core. A divine moan from the bottom of her throat. Chaewon sucks on the sweet spot under her ear and blows. She shudders, running her nails down the girl's back and losing her senses into Chaewon. “Baby, you shouldn't let him fuck you,” 

She silently tugs on Chaewon's locks to get her going faster, not this torturous pace, not this torturous wait. Chaewon kisses her again to deny her requests. “Listen to me, baby. You don't need him,” 

Minjoo sees the green in her eyes. And oh, what a sight. Chaewon leans down to capture a nipple between her teeth, adding another finger into her as her thumb rubbed circles on her clit. “He doesn't know you the way I do, does he?”

She waits for an answer.

“No, Chaewon,—”

Too good to her. Chaewon is too good for her. She arches her back off the leather seats to feel her warmth against her body. She holds onto her with her very being. Her mind is in a haze, the girl was relentless, every corner of her flesh felt like it belonged to Chaewon and _fuck. She's just, beyond words._ “He doesn't, baby. He won't touch you like I do,”

_He won't love you like I would._

She watches the girl unravel.

Brown hair sticking to her face, the aftermath of her sucking and biting just starting to show on porcelain skin. She listens. A melody only she would hear, she could hear, she could coerce out of Minjoo. She feels the sting of Minjoo's nails across her back. A part of her wants to pull away and edge her, but Minjoo was being so good, so responsive, so vocal to every one of her touches that she doesn't. 

She brings her fingers to Minjoo's lips. _Sin_ , the contrast between the look in her eyes and the way she sucked on her fingers, slow, sensual, ungodly, all she can breathe out is _fuck, baby, you're so beautiful._ Minjoo brings her face down to leave a lasting kiss and it feels like it's real for a moment. 

“You're so good, Chae.”

The leather peels away from her skin and it hurts only a little. “I know.”

Minjoo rolls her eyes and settles back in her lap, kissing her for the nth time that night. It felt too real. She doesn't want to fall any further. “You're so much more of a sweet talker when you're jealous.”

“Really,”

It's like her girlfriend was teasing her for getting lost in passion for her. It's like Minjoo is hers, in the cramped backseat of her car. It's like the rest of the world vanished and only the two of them existed, all that mattered was the softness of Minjoo's voice, all that mattered was the lingering of her touches. It was deluding her mind. 

Fuck, she was losing her mind. 

She might as well have been going insane.

  
  
  
  
  
  


[[

“Chaewon,”

She hums in acknowledgement and you don't see that look in her eyes anymore. 

“Did you mean what you said?”

You hate how insecure you sound. Maybe that's what compels her to look at you, your voice slightly hoarse and rising barely above the silence. “What did I say?”

Drop it — she doesn't remember, she must've said it in the heat of the moment — let it go. Don't ruin what you have right now for your irrational feelings. She doesn't say things like that out of the blue. 

She only said it because of the situation. Let it go.

  
  
  


_No, fuck it,_ you only have this night. This moment wouldn't come again. “You said he wouldn't love me… like—”

“Did I say that? Huh,” her brows raise in interest, disbelief, whatever: you can't exactly tell, but you know she wouldn't know if she said it anyway. She doesn't think much of her words. You knew this. You already did. “Hasn't he told you he loves you like a million times, though?”

You chuckle. Slowly, you turn up the stereo as a random song off Chaewon's playlist fills the silence. Her voice induces you to sleep, almost, but you're reminded of what the purpose of the night was and catch her attention with a low rumble in your throat. “My parents want me to date him, they want us to get engaged when college is over.”

Your eyes close. You don't want to see the way she reacts. 

“What I'm saying is you should…”

What? What could she do? You aren't keen on sorting out your confusing feelings for her right now. 

It would be nice, just falling asleep listening to her voice.

What do you want her to do?

She was just your fuck buddy, after all. Wasn't that the deal? “What should I do, Minjoo?”

“You like me, right?” 

The silence answers for her. “What's stopping you from admitting it, Chae? Is it Eunbi?” No, you don't like her sigh after your words. You don't want to be correct.

(She would choose you, right?

Right?)

“Sleep, Min. Don't think too much,”

You let a sound out in defeat. The night breeze is cold on your cheeks and you feel the cold spread in your lungs as you breathe it in. You did have an eventful night, you should get some rest. “Sing for me, then.” 

She complies. But Chaewon listens to one too many love songs.

Still, she complies.

You wish she didn't.

]]


	2. tempo (beat one)

A N D A N T E

  
  
  


_You’re sinking._

The weight of the world was heavy on your back, you can’t tell how much more you’ll be able to take. You’re lost, lost in white sheets and misplaced pillows that you didn’t bother arranging yesterday morning. You’re sinking, deeper; your head won’t be able to take all this pressure anymore. The room was spinning.

You see a figure in the faint light. Before you’re washed away with the whirlpool in your room, it calls out for you. “Hey, Chaewon?”

You raise your head to dispel the haziness of your mind. Oh, right. Your roommate looks at you with a glint in her eyes. Maybe she doesn’t. You can’t really tell. Everything is disorienting — like a sickness in your chest, you feel dizzy — like you were going to vomit your lungs out, and not because of the vodka Yena slipped you at the party earlier. Maybe the glint you see in her eyes is just the vertigo fucking with you.

Sakura seems to take notice of your… _current state._ She hesitates for a moment, face pensive and swallowing down her doubt, but still, she pushes through. “Are you dating Kim Minjoo?”

The feeling blooms across your chest again, congesting your throat, faint strawberries on your tongue. _White flowers,_ making it harder for you to breathe. Petals graze the edges of your heart. Thorns pierce into your lungs. You feel sick.

Sick.

“What?” 

Her gaze doesn’t falter against your sharp eyes. Damn it, if only she was still intimidated by you. You could’ve avoided this question like a breeze. 

Instead, she holds your gaze, raises her brows, as if she was daring you. _Yeah, I asked. I asked if you were dating Kim Minjoo._

You sigh. Grabbing one lone pillow to smother your face. She clears her throat and fuck her, honestly. You should’ve never become friends.

“Why are you under the impression we’re dating…”

“You left the party with her, didn’t you? And then you brought her here.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw you two walking out of the complex when I was coming in. The party thing, well, I was just guessing.”

A chuckle leaves your throat and you wish it didn’t sound as sarcastic as you made it to be. _You, dating Minjoo?_

What a fucking joke.

Minjoo was the embodiment of everything you had hoped to avoid at the start of college. Pretty rich girls never meant anything but trouble and you really didn't need any more trouble in your life. And of all the pretty rich girls you could get involved with, it _had_ to be Minjoo. 

Minjoo spelt a different kind of trouble. You really fucked up this time. 

“No, we're not dating.”

You're not.

But you can't shrug the feeling off. Tonight felt exactly like you were dating her. The breaking hours of a quiet dawn. Faint music playing in your car. You gazed at her, wondering when your hand ended up in hers as she held it in her sleep. You wished the moment lasted longer. She was ignorant of the weight behind your smile, eyes hiding behind a pink tinted facade.

You think back to the cute lilt in her voice when you told her she had to go home, to leave you alone with the night. 

It felt like she wanted to stay with you. She wanted to be with you.

“Oh.”

It felt like a lot of things.

“Yeah. Please don't tell anyone you saw her with me, though. I don't need the—”

Sakura sees right through your lie but she's competent enough to let it slip. You know she wants to press further. 

“—Attention.”

_Why were you with her in the first place?_

She wants to ask, doesn't she? 

“Okay.”

Despite the visual challenges you go through to see her, fighting the darkness and your vertigo, you spot the faint smile on her face. Probably out of pity. Most likely out of pity.

_Just like that?_

You raise both your eyebrows in doubt. 

She ignores you and turns off the lights, shaking her head still with that smile on her face. 

“What?” 

The frown seeps into your voice. “Nothing, Chae. G’nite.”

Hugging the pillows closer to your chest, you huff. Fuck everyone and their inconspicuous smiles. “G’nite…”

You have enough of those from Minjoo already.

—

“What happened, Kim? Eunbi keep you up all night?” 

Yena's eyebrows wiggle up and down and god, how badly you want to punch that smirk off her face. She bursts into laughter at the raise of your middle finger and it wouldn't be _that_ bad, right? She'd just have a bruised cheek, maybe a black eye for a day or two. Nothing she couldn't take. 

“Well aren't you in a bad mood?”

“Fuck _off,_ Choi. I'm literally two seconds away from punching your lips back in where they should be.”

“Oh, she's a little feisty today.” You lean forward to take the shot because fuck it but Hyewon holds you back so all you do is glare at her and sink your nails into your palm. “You kinda do look like shit though, Kim.”

Oh, you know. It's bad enough that you have to wear a turtleneck in the middle of summer because Minjoo has absolutely no sense of self control. The bags under your eyes and your dry skin and the bruises on your lips and—the point is, you know. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead.

Sighing, you lean back onto the grass with your hands cupping your face. “Yeah, I look like shit. Can we talk about something else now?”

Shouts from a few feet away catch your attention. The headache you've had since the morning only intensifies. Hyewon lets out a low whistle and you crack an eye open to see what all the fuss was about. 

  
  


“He certainly looks like a ball of sunshine,”

Hyunjin and his friends stand a few feet away and a sneer etches onto your face. They throw an arm over his shoulders and put him in a headlock, ruffling his hair while he sports a huge shit eating grin, barely protesting against their actions.

You've never seen him like that, so radiant, so full of joy that it pissed you off, so prideful—you never knew a smile could look so condescending and humble at the same time.

“I’d be the same if I finally scored after waiting for like, six years, right, Kang? Haven't they known each other since they were kids?”

“Yeah, he's been like that ever since high school.”

You see Hyunjin swat away his friends' arms in haste. He straightens out his shirt, standing almost grotesquely upright as he puffed his shoulders with a wider grin on his face. Your eyes follow his line of sight and _oh_. 

It should stop coming as a shock to you that Minjoo would look presentable in public no matter what the circumstances. It's just a difference in class, isn't it? You look like shit but she looks the way she's supposed to, prim, proper, presentable. Her family's never made much sense to you, why did they have to act like seventeenth century royals all the time? You don't get it.

A sigh leaves you with a heavier weight on your chest. She looked this beautiful. It hurts, white flowers playing an unsung tune in your lungs. She meets his eyes, gives him a feeble smile and the moment she looks away, you hear more hollering, more roughing around, maybe even a wolf whistle. 

What a fucking loser. He's just going to stroke his ego and act like he slept with Minjoo, isn't he? He's gonna pretend to be all ballsy and the worst of it is that Minjoo won't even say anything to deny it. 

Does Minjoo even know he's out there acting like they had sex? 

“Oh, he's been pining on her since high school? Damn, I’d be over the fucking moon if I slept with my high school sweetheart…”

You scoff. 

“How do you know they—”

Cliches. Minjoo and you lock eyes for a brief moment and you don't know why, you don't know why time stops. You hate it. She smirks, condescending, humble, and wow, it's really a rich people thing, isn't it? 

You clear your throat. The sunlight hurts your eyes a little. “I don't think they slept together.”

Yena looks at you in disbelief and it doesn't settle well with you. How she's so sure that Minjoo and Hyunjin were together. Did they really give off that impression? 

Were you disillusioned by your feelings for the girl that you just can't see how well they match each other? Is it really that obvious?

Hyewon hums with a cock of her head. She turns to look at you and blocks the sun for a few seconds. 

“Yeah, I don't think they did either. They didn't even leave the party together.” 

You sit back up when Yena retorts in bewilderment. 

“Besides, I don't think Minjoo likes him all too much. She's never been that interested in him—I mean, I've only known them and their parents for my entire life as well, make of that what you want.”

Sometimes you forget Hyewon is high up on the social ladder. It's strange, how the wealthier circles of people tend to stay together, how Hyewon knows Hyunjin and Minjoo since _forever_ just because they're rich. Sometimes, you really hate her because she's the reason you got to know Minjoo in the first place. Isn’t Hyewon basically the cause for the whole situation with Minjoo you’re in now? Huh. And she doesn’t even know you’re sleeping with her.

It’s kinda funny. If Hyewon hadn’t forced you to go to that party at Minjoo’s house back then, you wouldn’t even be thinking about her! Wow. It’s all so ridiculous.

“I dunno, she seems _real_ interested in him lately—”

Your ringtone cuts through Yena's sentence and the white noise on campus. Wait.

Your phone isn't in your pockets. It's not even in your vicinity. Why is the world so cruel to you, why does it have to be right beside Yena? Dear lord, who could it be? Please don't be Minjoo—you _are_ friends with Minjoo and your friends _do_ know that but isn't it weird for the girl to be calling you when her boy toy was literally talking her head off right in front of you? 

_Please,_ don't be Minjoo.

“Chae, your sugar mommy is calling..? Wait, are you guys getting back together? You've been going out with her a lot these days…”

The second the words _sugar mommy_ leave Yena's mouth you grab for your phone but she holds it far out of your grasp and laughs. “C’mon, won't she feel bad if she sees her contact name? Like Eunbi broken heart emoji is something high schoolers do, Chae.”

“It’s none of your business, Choi.” The girl stands to distance herself from your arm's length. “You didn't tell us what happened last time you went out with her! Like I want to know what you did on your lil’ amusement park date too!”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I'll tell you later. Just gimme my phone already.”

She gives in and you're greeted with a voice too pepper for the mood you're in. 

_“Chae, are you in class?”_

“No, not yet. What's up?”

_“Do you want to go out for dinner tonight? I was going to ask you on the weekend but I got swamped with work…”_

“Oh…” You look up to see your friends prompting you to continue. Your gaze focuses behind them for a while. 

  
  


_What should you do?_

_No, what can you do?_

  
  


“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

_“Great! I'll pick you up around eight, then?”_

“There’s no need for that, just text me the address and I'll be there. Don't wanna waste your time and all,”

_“Hey, you're not a waste of time to me…”_

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek. “Class is about to start, I'll call you later, okay?”

“Was that Eunbi?” 

Was it not obvious? Yena answers for you so Hyewon doesn't have to decipher the meaning behind your glare. “Wow, she's really trying to make things right this time, huh?” 

“I guess. Let's, let's not get into it, okay? My head already hurts so much—and shouldn't we get going? It's getting late.”

  
  
  
  


Now, you wouldn't be taking this class given it didn't account for some extra credit points that you desperately needed to maintain your grade. And you’re sure that the forty other people in the room weren't knowledge seekers just wanting to learn some nice contemporary Korean thought either.

Yena is lucky enough to _not_ have to take this class with you and Hyewon and paying attention to class in the first place seems like a much better option than listening to the professor drone on about the anti-communist ideologies that gripped the country following the second world war. You don't expect Hyunjin to be in the class because _wow_ corruption exists but you suppose you can't buy yourself out of everything. 

  
  


One hour and fifteen minutes.

See. You are not a snob. Really, you're all for partying hard, disobeying authority, rebelling against society and other non-snobbish things. You love having fun! It's the truth—and even if somehow, deep down, you actually _are_ a snob you believe that you aren't, isn't that what truly matters? You get it, it's fun to mess around in the middle of class just to get on the professor's nerves and watch him not be able to do anything, you get it. Yeah.

But for the love of _god,_ could Hyunjin and his friends shut up and pay attention to class just this _once?_ There was no need for them to say anything about the professor's glued on wig every single time he turned to face the board, was there? You understand, you're all young hot blooded youths who wanna have _fun_. Maybe if it were anyone else you wouldn't be so pissed off. Maybe if it was a different day you wouldn't want to punch his face in. 

You think of the standstill your life is in. If only it was someone else. If only it was a different day. 

You're not being snobbish when you want to have an hour and fifteen minutes of peace, are you? You can't be the only one annoyed by them. 

Obviously not, when everyone rushes out of class the moment it's over. 

You wouldn't have done it, if he hadn't been boasting about his dick game last night—the night Minjoo spent with you, the night you found out that she knows the way you feel about her—you wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been talking about her like she was a conquest he conquered.

You are a rational person. You're level headed. You don't tend to express your emotions a lot, you know when to accept whatever life throws at you. You _think._ You're not the kind to act on impulsive decisions. You know. Everyone knows. 

You're just having a bad day.

(Actually, you think you would have punched him regardless of your shitty mood. Nothing about him settles well with you.)

The first punch misses because your aim was a bit off and he didn't expect it so his reflexes got the better of you and ow, why did he have to be standing in front of the wall? Still—even as your knuckles hurt you make sure the second punch doesn't miss and there would be a third if it wasn't for Hyewon and his friends barricading the space between you. “Chae, what the fuck are you doing!?”

“The fuck is _he_ doing! He's been acting like he slept with Minjoo the whole day when—!

He's bluffing his ass off like a loser desperate for some sweet social status! Hey, Hwang, do you really need the clout from your friends that badly?”

“Bullshit, Kim. How would you even know about something like that, huh? How can you be so sure she wasn't with me?”

_Because she was with me, asshole._

“You didn't even leave the party together. Right, Hye?” You ignore the _why are you bringing me into this_ look Hyewon gives you and wriggle your wrists out of her grasp. “Yeah, I mean, she left way before you did, Hyun.”

“So—? That doesn't mean—”

The girl glares at you for a brief moment and it sends fear right down to your bones. What did you do? You're justified in doing what you did. “Why don't we just ask Minjoo, then? I think she'd know more about what she was doing last night than anyone else…”

He brings a hand to wipe away the blood dripping down his nose. “You know what? Fuck you, I don't even need to be talking about this with you.”

  
  


“Yeah, sure, you coward.” You mutter under your breath and Hyewon makes a motion of choking you when you finally leave the room. You pull at her arms with a frown. 

“Chaewon, what the fuck were you even thinking punching him out of nowhere like that? Did you even think of the consequences this could have?”

“Oh please, he's not gonna go around saying he got punched by a _tiny wittle girl_ to anyone. Did you forget about his gigantic fucking ego?”

She huffs. 

“You're insane. You had no reason to do that.”

“Yes I did, could you not hear the way he was talking about her? She's my friend and she's yours too—how could I just stand around and do nothing?” 

Is it obvious that you're lying through your teeth? Because Hyewon looks at you so incredulously that you can't help but doubt yourself. She wouldn't know, would she? She wouldn't know that you were sick of him bragging about something he hadn't even done. That you were maybe a little jealous. That you couldn't stand the fact he thought of Minjoo that way. 

You can't stand the thought of him and Minjoo together.

She wouldn't know, would she?

Would she?

Ouch. She gives you a dirty look. “Yeah, I don't think his gigantic fucking ego will let go of this that easily either. I'm just worried, Chae.”

“There’s no point in worrying about the future, Kang. Just, let it go, you know?” And even if it's a bit cringe, you make grand gestures acting like you were building huge walls of snow and ice or whatever, it gets a smile on her face so it's worth the questioning looks you get as the two of you walked by.

  
  
  


Thankfully, the rest of your day is peaceful. You've, uh, cooled down a bit. Let off the steam a little. You feel a little lighter. 

Such a shame that you punched Hwang Hyunjin and no one else knows but a handful of people.

Well. It doesn't matter.

You're in a much better mood now, so the walk you take around campus is pleasant. Dusk descends on the sky and you try to make sense of its gradients, pink to orange, blue to red. It's nice, it makes you feel nice. Nothing between you and the sky. Until you bring your gaze back to the world and Minjoo leaves her car behind to approach you with the same haughty look on her face. Damn it, you can't even pretend like you didn't see her. You don't even like being seen with her in public. It just… doesn't settle well with you. 

(It gives you the false hope that maybe she doesn't give a fuck about everyone else and wants to spend time with you, but you know that's not true.)

“Hey.” She bumps her shoulder with yours and all of a sudden the aching of your hand springs to your attention from the back of your mind. You stuff both hands into your pockets and pray she won't notice, the skin on your knuckles kinda peeled off because of the wall. “Hey…”

And you hate it—you hate it so much. You hate the way she pretends like nothing has changed. The way she decides to remain oblivious to your feelings. All these mixed signals. These blurred lines. What did she even want from you?

 _What do you even want for yourself?_ You don't know that either. It's frustrating. Your mind's a mess. You don't know. 

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something…” she says, an arm comes to wrap around yours. It stops halfway because you were getting a call and attempts, attempts are made to get your phone out of your pocket. You manage to, somehow but with a turn of your wrist pain shoots through your hand and your grip slackens. “Fuck,” you whisper, reaching for your your phone. Minjoo picks it up for you and her expression turns stone when she gives it to you. 

Oh, right.

“Eunbi... hey. Did you get off work? What's up?”

_“Yeah, just got on the subway. It's nothing, I wanted to hear your voice,”_

God, it's so awkward. Your ears flush with heat and you chuckle, nerves getting the better of you. Eyes dart to your side. _“And I'm reminding you of our date tonight, are you sure you don't want me to pick you up?”_

“No, it's fine! I'll be there, don't worry.”

Amusement seeps into her tone. _“Fine, is eight o'clock good for you?”_

“Yeah, eight it is. I'll see you then.”

And you wish desperately that the earth would swallow you whole right now. The sky was darkening too fast for you to relish in its colours. The sun hanging on the horizon. “Uh, what did you—”

“What happened to your hand?”

It's ridiculous, really. How nice it feels when she brings your hand up and runs a finger down your knuckles. You hiss when she reaches a patch of red skin and frowns. “Oh, um, I, got my hand stuck in a closing door… this morning.”

“And you didn't bother, I don't know, bandaging it or anything?”

She looks up to you when you remain silent and sighs. What was she thinking, if only you could tell. “Oh my god, don't tell me you were the one who punched Hyunjin today…”

Sucking in your lips, you raise both your eyebrows in shock. “Someone punched him?” Minjoo rolls her eyes at your feign and directs your path to the infirmary. 

“What is wrong with you, Chae. Why would you even do that?”

You ball your hand into a fist, feeling the pain intensify, the bandage tightening against your fingers and relax. The fabric is rough on your palm, unpleasant. It’s too thick for you to even hold anything properly. 

“You know why.”

She holds your gaze. 

Looking away, she sighs. “He doesn’t look good with a huge black spot on his face.” 

“Oh, then I’ll be sure to aim for his torso next time,” you finish with a chuckle and she smiles. Dreams of white drowning your vision. “Maybe his jaw would be better. He hasn’t stopped complaining about it the entire day…”

Her fingers trace the texture of the bandages. You look on, brown locks curtaining her fading smile. Constricting. Every second spent gazing at her features hurts, it hurts when she picks at your fingers because it feels like the moment is yours. It feels too real. Illusions. You clear your throat and she retracts, gently. “Wait—I forgot about Baekhyun, I told him I would be back in like, five minutes.” She knocks her head and gives you her rich person smile. Since when did she care so much about her driver?

“I’d better get going. Have a nice night and don’t do anything bad for your hand, okay?”

To a normal person, she would sound absolutely neutral. But you know. You’re not just anyone. You hear something in her voice and you’re not sure if you like it. Was she being bitter? 

Was she jealous?

_No, you idiot. Why would she be?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be three beats all in one chapter but I wanted to post this by the weekend and I wasn't really satisfied with the other two beats so... yeah. I'm way too invested in this story to half ass it lol


	3. tempo (beat two)

  
  
  
  


A L L E G R O

  
  
  


“So? Then what happened?”

“You’re so impatient,” you sigh. You stick a spoon in Yena’s chocolate almond ice cream and she frowns at the remnants of your mint chocolate in her cup. “Well, what do you expect me to be? It’s been two weeks and you're telling us about the dinner date _now!_ And you didn't even tell me about the amusement park date!”

“Okay, okay… I get it—So then we went to her apartment and just, you know,”

“No way,” Hyewon breathes. “You didn't.”

“What—No! We just hung out. And also, my hand was broken then, dumbass.”

“You don't have to use your hands to—whatever.”

“Do you think she deserves another chance..? I mean, she's really trying.”

  
  


“Why did you break up with her anyway?”

Yena’s tone is easy, the ice cream melts the more you mess around with it with your spoon. “I’d rather not say.”

The girl nods when Hyewon reprimands her and you feel guilty for letting an awkward pause ensue in the conversation. “We won matching plushies in one of those shooter game things. And she’s so competitive it was kinda scary,” you chuckle, feeling your lips get sticky. “A cute little fox plushie and a bunny. I think it was supposed to be those animals from zootopia but they were too fluffy for that… she gave me both because I couldn't choose between ‘em,”

“Oh, and she got scared when we rode the ferris wheel—like, you know how they stop at the top for a while? So, you know, we held hands… and we could see the whole city from up there. It was nice. Really, really beautiful.” 

  
  


_“Oho,_ Chaewonie, seems like you’re blushing a little..!” You cover your face with your hands and shrug the arm off of your shoulders. “Shut up.”

  
  
  
  


The plan was to watch a movie after ice cream but Yena apparently had to go pick up someone for something; and you’re forced to spend time with Hyewon now—not that you didn’t want to, but ever since that day, you’ve had this unsettling feeling with her. Like she knows something you don’t want her to know. You’ve been trying your best to hang out with her only in Yena’s presence but it seems like you don’t have a choice. Your phone buzzes for the fourth time that night and she looks at you, her face nonchalant. It’s her words that scare you more.

  
  


“Go on, pick it up. I won’t mind.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Don’t—”

“I suggest that you do, Minjoo doesn’t like it when people ignore her. Least of all you.”

“Hah, yeah…” 

  
  


It’s surprising how much time is between two weeks. Minjoo spends a lot of time with Hyunjin these days. It’s evident with all the pictures they post of each other online, like every other day. But it’s strange. 

Because Minjoo also spends a lot of time with you. Sometimes it would just be like you’re hanging out with her, idly watching a movie in her bed, going out to cafes to compare the taste of the coffees they sell, mindlessly having her driver drive you around as you’d talk, forcing you to show her around convenience stores because she never got to shop in them when she was younger. Last time she said you’d take a walk at Han river. Maybe that’s why she was calling you.

Sometimes you exercise the benefits of your friendship like, every other—other day. It’s strange. Time passes by yet you feel you're stuck in the same place. You don’t know how to keep up with her. 

  
  


“Do you really want to get back with Eunbi?” She asks, knocking you out of your stupor. 

“...I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

You stare at her. “I dunno, I just don’t know if I’m ready to date again.”

“Really?”

She looks on, as if she was provoking you. 

  
  


Your eyes narrow.

“You know that she left me heartbroken last time, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't that answer your question?”

The look in your eyes doesn’t faze her. Why do you not seem intimidating to the people you knew anymore? It’s not fair. 

“Haven't you moved on, though?”

Hyewon turns the chair that Yena was sitting in around and leans forwards onto it. “I mean, you said you don't feel the same way that you used to with her.”

“Yeah, but that's because it's been two years since our break up. I've changed. She's changed. How could I feel the same way?”

“Fine,” she sighs, dissatisfied with your reasoning. “What's so different from when you were dating her then to now?”

“Well…”

“Back then, we just let it run on our feelings. Like, we didn't really think of the future or anything. I let my heart take all the decisions for me, honestly. I think she was the same too. Maybe, maybe if I was a little more cautious and not caught up in a teenage love story dream then it would be different. Maybe we'd still be together…”

“Hm, but you're both adults now. And you're all put together most of the time, I'm sure you guys could work out whatever unresolved feelings you have from the past and start anew.”

She pats your arm and you puff your cheeks. Eunbi was always the more mature one of you two. She was understanding. She'd get why you were so upset back then, even if she couldn't understand at that instance. She'd empathize with the way you felt. You would get the closure your teenage self had longed for and then you could start over with her. 

“Yeah, but I think what I feel when I'm with her is just the memories of the past—reminding me of how good we used to be together, almost as if it's nostalgia. She makes me feel a replica of those emotions I had in high school but…”

It doesn't feel the same. 

With her, they're not the same.

You wave a hand and smile, hoping she'll drop the topic. “You're right. It's probably just me being bitter about the break up and not letting myself feel how I used to feel. We just need to talk it out someday.”

  
  


“How much longer will you avoid your feelings, Chaewon?

“I think it's for the best if you sort out your feelings as soon as possible. You should really get back together with her. You're cute together. You'd make a _perfect_ couple. Don't let a gem like Eunbi slip away! She's—”

“Wait, why do you want me to date her so bad?” 

She clicks her tongue and takes a look at your phone. “There’s something you’re not telling me.

“See, if you were using that rational mind of yours, you would've been dating Eunbi now—past all the talking it out and whatnot. But you're not. Why aren't you, hm?”

You ponder for a minute. If you told her, then maybe the weight on your chest wouldn’t be as heavy. It would be nice to have someone to confide in, after all. Then again, it feels like she knows. But how much? How could you tell? 

“So there’s this girl I like…”

Hyewon moves to take a seat closer to you. You push against the table, metal screeching against the floor, your head descending to hang off the top of the chair. Staring at the ceiling. Trying to remember the words Minjoo whispers into your ears, late at night. “Way too out of my league, though. It’d never work, trust me, the world doesn’t work that way. I can’t help it though. I just like her so much… and that’s why me and Eunbi, I’m not sure if I want that.”

She hums. You send Minjoo a quick text and miss the look on her face. Her fingers tap a short beat on the table and she looks you straight in the eye.

“Is this girl the one you’re sleeping with every now and then or is it someone else?” 

“What?” You pull a muscle in your neck when you force yourself forwards and stare her down, incredulously. What did you expect, anyway? She was your _only_ mutual friend and this is Hyewon we’re talking about here. She was bound to find out some day or the other. She shrugs her shoulders. “How’d you find out?”

“Because A, you’re way too obvious with it; B, I figured it out after the party and C, Minjoo may or may not have drunkenly bragged about how good sex with you is, even if I _definitely_ did not gain anything from learning that. Mostly because you’re so fucking obvious, though. The punching gave it away.”

“Damn.”

“When did she tell you?”

“A week ago. We were forced to attend this thing,”

“Hm.”

“You like her.”

You sink back into your chair. “Yeah.”

“And you're not going to do anything about it?”

  
  


_What can you do?_

  
  


“She's getting engaged to him.

“And I don't think she feels the way I do about her anyway. I'm just a removable part of her life. Not that important or whatever…”

“Of course you think that…” she sighs, “Does she know?” You nod. “What if she feels the same way?”

“...”

“She doesn't.

“If she does, she's not doing a very good job at showing it, then.

“Also, like her parents would ever be okay with that, they're not gonna let her date anyone except Hyunjin.”

You think back on the time of all the things you kept hidden in your heart. All these words, these confessions that won’t leave your mind. You wish you were bolder. You wish you could do something about the situation you’re in. 

“The longer you don't do anything about it, the more it's gonna hurt, Chae. You're letting your heart be caught up in two different situations when you could just choose and be done with it. There'll be consequences, of course, but they'll be much less painful than continuing to live in this dual mindset of yours. I don't want to see you hurt anymore. You'll end up hurting Minjoo and Eunbi if you go on this way. And above all, it'll break you. It sounds way too vague but just do what feels right. Listen to your heart for once, you'll regret it if you don't.”

  
  


Right. If only you knew how to do that, though.

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  


Her sheets are cold against your back but her body is hot against yours, the fingers splayed on your abdomen push you down and she pauses for a moment, ends of her hair grazing your cheekbones. “Why are you so cold?” she asks, bringing a hand to your temple and then to your neck, checking for your temperature, probably. You prop yourself on your elbows, confusion on your face. Was that really the most striking thing in the moment? Weren't you in the middle of something? 

“Why are you so hot?” you ask. How should you know why your body feels cold? Maybe _she_ was the one running a fever. 

Her smile is cheeky and you frown when she gets off you. “So you think I'm hot?”

You roll your eyes. “Haha. Very funny.”

She was the one being hot and cold, not you. Yes, then no. Since when did _my parents aren't home, come over_ descend into you watching a random movie with her? You feel cold—well, obviously. Your shirt is too far away for you to reach so you decide to slide under the sheets, watching as she does the same. 

“What's with you these days?” 

Minjoo gives you a look. If you don't understand, you're gonna ask. It's simple. You give her a look of your own. “What do you mean?”

“Um, you should be moaning my name grasping at thin air now, not scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch.” 

She scoffs. “You're not _that_ good, stop flattering yourself.”

You would scoff back, but it would just lead into a whole conversation of playful jabs at each other and you weren't up for that. “No—but seriously, what's wrong?”

She’ll lie and compel you to drop it, you won’t push any further than you’re allowed to. She’ll tell you it’s nothing and ward your worries away with kisses. You don’t know what it’s going to be this time.

For a moment, that’s what you think will happen. You’ll be given another excuse. You’ll have to stay at your threshold. But in that moment she looks into your eyes and you try your best to get your sincerity through.

“I don’t know.”

Minjoo bites her lips and exhales. “Everything is a blur, Chae.” 

You hum. “Yeah.”

  
  


Could you comfort her the way you wanted to?

Holding her close, pressing quiet kisses on the side of her head as she listed down all her troubles. Listening to her intonation, all day if you had to. Somehow. Can you do something? Anything? 

Anything.

Can you take a step closer?

Can you, this once?

She moves closer to you. Your heartbeat, mind, thoughts in a million places at once. You can't. You're too afraid.

Minjoo hugs you by your arm and rests her head on your shoulder. Ignoring the way you stiff up for a second. “I don't know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

No answers. You don't bother asking again. Harder.

Harsher.

In your ears, your eyes. You feel your pulse moving at the speed of sound. The burdens on your heart, lost in the senses of all things pure white, porcelain, all things reminding you of Kim Minjoo. You should say something. You want to.

But petals fill your throat where words should be. She was right in your presence. Almost in your arms. 

Thorns.

She was so close to you. You could feel her fragrance down to your lungs, the rise and falls from her breathing against your body, her heat warming your cold. 

With you. Wishing you knew what was on her mind. Wishing she could tell what was on yours. She probably knew, anyway. Somehow, she always can tell what you feel.

You dare, your fingers draw patterns on the back of hers and she intertwines them, saving you from your misery. Your chest gets lighter. Heavier. You can't tell.

It's all a blur.

  
  


“Can you tell me why you broke up with Eunbi?”

The look in her eyes, or rather, the lack of it. You wonder. Is it because she truly doesn’t feel or because she’s just too good at hiding her emotions for you to see behind her facade? 

“Why?”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyebrows furrowing. She’s cute. “Why do you like her so much despite that?”

You smile but Minjoo doesn’t seem to like it. That only leads you to laugh until the girl huffs. 

“Do you need to know?” 

She nods and you sigh. 

“It was…

“It was when she had to leave for college, it was some place far away. She had to move there and leave everything behind, and obviously, me too. It hurt a lot because I was convinced she was the one, y'know. I thought we'd end up together for a long time. I could see it.

“But she didn't think the same. I wanted to keep the relationship going even if it was long distance, I was willing to go through it for her. She couldn't see that—she just thought I was naive to believe we'd survive something like that. She was all for breaking up, saying I should be more mature about it, that I wasn't thinking of all the consequences, all the hardships we'd have to go through. It felt like she just saw me as this unruly teen while she was on a higher pedestal and I wondered if that's all she thought of me. It was really rough on me, I really liked her a lot...

“So… yeah. She left without another word. We never spoke again until, well, you know.”

“Hmm.”

The background music from the movie playing registers in your mind, it was faint. Must've been an english movie. She plays with your fingers for a while. Sighing into your hair. It's too much for your fragile heart.

  
  
  


_What if she feels the same way?_

  
  
  


“Minjoo.”

She turns, moving to rest her chin on your chest. In those chocolate brown eyes you search for answers to questions you ask, deep within your heart. You wish you could see beyond what she wants you to see. You wish you could break down these walls. These limits. It starts to hurt, again. She's not yours.

_Could she be?_

Ask. 

She tilts her head to urge you to continue. The words on the tip of your tongue. Just ask. 

_Would you be willing to risk it all for me?_

Then that begs the question. Are you willing to risk it all for her? Are you willing to let your heart lead your actions again? How far are you willing to go to be with her? Because you know, it won't be easy.

_Would you be willing to fight for me?_

Ask.

“What is it, Chae?”

  
  


_Would you be mine if I wanted you to?_

  
  
  


“Why did you tell Hyewon about us?” 

  
  


_Coward._

  
  


You bring a hand to fix her hair, raking your fingers through it and it's amusing, how her eyes widen and she pushes herself off of you in shock, you assume. “What?”

“She told me that you got drunk and told her.”

“How much did she tell you—No, what did she tell you?”

“Well, she told me she knows we're sleeping together because you told her. Did you tell her anything else?” The tension leaves her body and she settles back on you. “Nope.” she smiles, it's devilish, almost. You don't trust her one bit. “I thought we weren't telling anyone?” 

“It was an accident,” she pouts. It takes everything in you not to hold her cheeks in your hands and get her to smile again. “Are you mad?”

“Maybe.”

You can't keep up with Kim Minjoo. She moves forward until her chest is against yours and leans forwards to kiss you. Only the least desperation with each movement of her tongue, hot skin wraps around your shoulders and she pulls back. Smirking down on you. What can you say, when she asks if you're still mad, what can you do but kiss her again, not minding how obviously your insistence showed? 

“Oh, and I am that good, baby. Isn't that what you told her?” 

You manage to wipe that smirk off for a split second, when she mutters _I'm gonna kill her_ under her breath but it comes back, cementing itself in the white dreams you'll have, the very thing you see when you call out her name, haunting you.

It comes back and she leans down to whisper in your ear. 

  
  


-

  
  


“Prove it, then,” and Minjoo manages to catch the smile on Chaewon's face when the girl flips them over and kisses her, each kiss slower, deeper, each one getting more infused with emotions she wouldn't dare name. Her hands run down her sides in featherlike motions again and again, down to her thighs. The lingering touches make her feel like she was catching fire, and yet, she feels chills run down her spine as her fingertips outline her figure. She brings her hands to cup Chaewon's face and control her pace but the girl takes hold of her wrists, pinning them above her head. Oh, was that how it was going to be? 

“Let me take care of you.”

Chaewon's breath is hot against her ear and she gasps when she feels a cold finger on her navel, pressing down. Chaewon takes the time to feel the softness of Minjoo's skin under her lips, like they had all the time in their world. The world could wait even if they didn't. She leaves a line of light kisses down her throat to the collar of her shirt, nipping at the skin until she could see it turn red. 

So, so agonizingly slow. 

Her fingers are careful to unbutton each button of her shirt. Licking, biting, kissing each patch of skin she reveals, the arms around her waist tighten ever so often but she holds back, taking it sensual, so, so, _so_ slow. Chaewon drags her tongue down the edges of her bra and _fuck her,_ seriously, she brings her hands down to tug on her hair, pleading her to go faster.

She comes up to kiss her and Minjoo does her best to bare her desire for the girl, shifting for any friction against Chaewon's knee but the girl stops her movements with the heel of her palm, this look in her eyes, her voice hoarse with the white noise in the background. “Baby, don't you want to be good for me?” 

It all goes to her head, Minjoo nodding fervently with a whimper leaving her lips as she started her trail downwards again, the girl complies to her wishes and puts her wrists nicely above her head again, she feels power coursing through her veins and clouding her thoughts. “Then wait.”

So, she waits. Her fingers grasp at thin air when her mouth is against her navel, all the buttons undone and she runs a hand up her chest as she kisses her, feeling her body arch into her, pausing to take in the look in Chaewon's eyes. The lust. She leaves a lasting kiss on her hip bone and fiddles with her pants until—

Until she hears the front door close shut and Chaewon collapses, her forehead resting on her stomach. She sits up. 

_“Minjoo! Come on down, won't you?”_

“Why are they back so early?” Chaewon groans. Minjoo kisses her on the cheek in apology, hoping to have her and her own frustration dissipate with it. 

“Wait, Min, my shirt's outside…”

“God…Then just wear one of mine. I'll tell Hyewon to pick you up, there's stairs to the left of the window—don't ask why they're there. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  
  
  


_“Dear, don't keep Hyunjin waiting now~!”_

What? Why him, why now? Minjoo turns to see if Chaewon was still in her room but all of a sudden her back is pressed against her door and Chaewon's teeth sink into her bottom lip, as if she was—wait, was she trying to bruise her lips? Minjoo pushes her back by the shoulders and sees a shit eating grin on the older girl's face. “You're such an idiot, Chaewon!” she ignores the whisper shouting and brings a thumb to wipe off her lips, looking pleased with her actions. She sucks in a brisk breath and raises her brows. “Bye, babe.”

  
  


Minjoo stands dumbfounded. Her mother's voice is shrill from the other side of the door. She opens it to be met with a scowl on her face. 

“What's taking you so long?” 

Chaewon's shirt is shoved into her hands and her mother starts rushing her. 

“Listen, why aren't you dating Hyunjin yet?”

“Wait, I've been spending more time with him like you wanted me to. It's not gonna happen in a day,” she rolls her eyes. “Yes, honey, but you've known each other for years! Whatever—His parents are here, they're going to have dinner with us. Just do your best to show you're interested in him, okay? He's been singing praises all about you anyway—just this one night, don't mess it up. Okay?” 

Minjoo nods, biting at her lips. _Oh, she's just too nervous to face you two, that's all!_ fading with each second. 

Staring down at the crumpled shirt in her hands, she sighs. 

  
  
  
  
  


_Why won't you give me a sign?_

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Don't you want to be mine?_

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. tempo (beat three)

  
  
  
  


P R E S T I S S I M O

  
  
  
  


_ Movement I _

  
  


You didn't know that alleyways were a thing that actually existed. Sure, you've seen them in movies and comics and a lot of other media, but not once in real life. That's probably because you never really noticed them. They  _ are _ supposed to be unremarkable and you aren't the most observant type when it comes to your surroundings, and besides, who would even take the time to notice an alleyway when the streets were swarmed with people all the time?

You never noticed them, that's all.

You also didn't know that thugs—bandits, gangs, mafia, whatever—were real organizations standing in broad daylight, they seemed too surreal for you to believe. Regardless of that, there was no need for the universe to prove their existence to you like  _ this, _ a milder way would have sufficed. 

Maybe you could've read an article about them in the news or something. That would be enough for you to know,  _ wow, thugs—bandits, gangs, mafia, whatever—actually exist. _

But no. You have to learn in the most extreme of ways, don't you? 

You don't usually take the subway. It's crowded, hot, you hate the inertia each time the train starts and stops, there's too many people and too little privacy than you'd like in a public space. It might be cheaper and better for the environment but honestly, you don't give a shit about any of that. You had no choice today. You woke up extra early to visit your parents (they lived about three towns away,) and you weren't willing to spend the quiet morning hours in traffic. That would just ruin your mood. At least in the morning the station was empty. When you were coming back, well—that's a different matter all together. 

They asked the usual questions, you gave the usual answers. They told you to concentrate more on your education and you waved their concerns away with a hand, saying you were doing fine. 

Then they asked about your love life and you wondered where the sudden interest came from. 

_ “I heard Eunbi works somewhere near your college,”  _

Oh, that. “ _ Yeah, I go out with her sometimes.” _

And you don't understand why your parents think she's a perfect match for you when they saw how you wouldn't even get out of bed after the break-up. There wasn't much you could do to shoot down their hopes, you can't exactly tell them that you're in anything but a relationship with the daughter of the guy who owned the franchise of the buildings they live in, can you? You just gritted your teeth as they listed down all the things they loved about your ex-girlfriend. It feels like everyone around you wants you to get back with her, even Minjoo, of all people. It's like everyone but you wants you two to date again. Everything, the world was against you.

The universe hates you a little too much, you think.

You didn't expect your Sunday afternoon would turn out this way. It happened too quick for you to even comprehend—the moment you got off the train to this long walk upstairs to your dorm room, everything's blending together.

_ What happened? _

You got off the train. Walked past the supermarket beside the station and crossed the road, sweating a bit from the heat. 

Then. 

Maybe you were pulled by your arm, or yanked back by the collar of your shirt. You don't know, can't remember. Happened too fast. You were maneuvered somehow into an alleyway by four women whom you could only assume were thugs. Or were they robbers? Wait, did you still have your wallet and phone? You don't bother checking, you had to get to your room first.

You didn't put up much of a fight. Firstly: you are not that strong to take on even one of these amazonian women. Secondly: they didn't give you a chance to bother putting up a fight—why they were so hellbent on ruining your body for a couple of weeks, you don't know. At best you managed a punch or two, that's it. You thought things like this were only fictional, like these are the things that happen to the main character in superhero movies, not an ordinary person like you. Thirdly: well, after a while, they seemed to take pity on you (after a punch to your face, gut, being roughed around; you probably ended up on the ground sometime, you can't really remember) and they left as fast as they came. 

  
  
  


You can't even think. You haven't even processed anything about it, were you bleeding anywhere? You ring the bell, bang the door a couple of times and lean on the doorway. 

You start to feel one ache after another. 

A drop of blood on your perfectly white shoes. Oh, so your nose was bleeding. Great. You feel a sting in your brow, your jaw starts to ache when you open your mouth a little and damn, pain keeps shooting through your arm with each movement you make. You slouch against the door, knocking (no, that hurts too much) ringing the bell impatiently. Now your stomach starts to hurt and man, they really did a number on you. 

You take a look at your ripped jeans ripping even more from the time you spent on the concrete and  _ you are going to kill her, _ what the fuck was Sakura doing? __

“God, the more you ring it the more I wanna make you wait outside, y'know!” 

You roll your eyes, pressing on the bell five more times. 

_ Finally. _

She gapes at your appearance for what seems like eternity.

“What the fuck, are you okay?” 

Sakura manages to catch you with a grunt when you lean on her. 

“Does it look like I'm okay?” you manage, groaning as you collapse on your bed. 

“What happened… should I call an ambulance or something? Can you see straight? Here, how many fingers am I holding up?” 

You swat her hand away and scowl. “I don't have a fucking concussion or anything, I just got beat up by some thugs. No need for an ambulance…”

“Were you mugged?” 

No, apparently. Your phone and wallet still snug in your pockets. You pull them out and sigh in relief. Sakura bites the tips of her fingers, probably thinking of how she could help you. “Do we have a first aid kit?”

“I dunno.

“Hey, I'd appreciate it if you left me alone for a while, okay? I need to collect my thoughts,”

You wave the doubt on her face away with what you think is a smile. She complies, after some half-hearted reassurance that you were fine, and damn, all you can think about is how much the universe must hate you. Why was this happening to you? What kind of cosmic punishment was this supposed to be? 

Nah, was there any meaning to your suffering? 

What could you have possibly done to deserve getting your ass owned by some random people on the street? 

  
  
  


“Chaewon, should I call any of your friends? You don't really look that good, to be honest… wouldn't it help a little? I mean, a comforting presence would—” 

“I asked for one thing, Kkura. Just a few minutes alone!”

“Okay, okay! I got it,”

But she interrupts your thoughts  _ again,  _ asking for your phone and you flip her off. Can't you get what you want at least when you lay on your bed in pain? 

Your mind doesn't seem to focus, though. Aimless thoughts pass by.  _ Oh, the blood must be drying up.  _

_ Oh, so one of the women was like ‘I think that's enough’ before they left.  _

_ Is going to the hospital really necessary?  _

_ My parents will never let me take the subway again, now. _

  
  


You just stay there, idle. Not moving so as to not cause any pain.

  
  


The door clicks open and you throw a pillow, hoping it'll hit Sakura somehow even as your arm faltered halfway through your throw, making your aim go completely off.

“Sakura, I told you I'd tell my friends later, just let me get my thoughts together in  _ peace, alone,  _ for fuck's sake.”

You wait in the silence for a response, but you get none. What, was she standing there and staring at you? You lift your head to tell her to fuck off but it's not just your roommate—moments later you see—of all the people you know—you see Minjoo enter and you swear to god you are going to fucking  _ kill  _ Sakura. Your eyes widen in threat and her shoulders raise along with her voice. 

“I didn't know who else to call! And what kind of psychopath wants to spend time  _ alone, with their thoughts _ after getting their ass beat, you psycho!”

If you had the chance, you would've thrown another pillow but Minjoo was in the way, so you grumble as you watch her leave. 

  
  
  


“Hey.”

It doesn't feel appropriate for a  _ hey  _ but you don't know what else to say. Your sides hurt a little when you scoot over for her to sit next to you.

Maybe it showed in your face, because she brings a hand to cup your jaw. 

  
  


The emotions playing out. Pity, empathy, disgust, because your life seemed so miserable? 

  
  


What could it be? 

  
  


You never understand what she feels.

  
  


When she sighs, you cover her hand with yours. 

“It's not that bad,” you whisper, scared to break the careful silence blanketing the room.

“What—how could anyone—it's, it's not right…” she breathes out.

She holds your hand with both of hers, she holds on to you like her life depends on it.

Your grip tightens. Your knuckles hurt. You're afraid if you let go, everything in this second, this minute, this moment you spend with her would disappear.

“Let's go to a hospital or something, they really messed you up…

“I mean, how could they do this to such a pretty face with no remorse?”

Warmth spilling into your chest. You chuckle. She smiles with you and you try not to let it hurt.

“No, maybe later.”

Minjoo frowns. “You don't like hospitals?”

She calls you cute when you nod. “How about a clinic, then?”

“Min, it's not that serious…”

“It doesn't look that way.” Her forehead creases and she bites her lips, her guilt conscience getting the best of her and wanting to help you, somehow. “Don’t you have a first aid kit or something?”

“I don't think so, and be honest—do you think anyone has those anymore..?”

Doing a one over of your body, she sees it all. The blood on your shoes, your torn torn jeans, the crumples on your white shirt, the bruises starting to turn an ugly red. “So you're just gonna stay here like this, just like this, for the rest of the day?”

“I'll probably go to a hospital or clinic or whatever later…

“Wait, do you even know how to use a first aid kit, Ms. Silver spoon? Nah, maybe a golden spoon is more fitting for your standards,”

She mumbles _shut up, and_ _no, I don't_ and you prop yourself on your pillows, only to get a better look at her beauty. “Then how were you gonna help me?” you laugh, and she looks solemn.

  
  


Minjoo's eyes are hesitant and full of something you don't understand. You can't begin to understand. You wish you could, you wish you knew. 

Wishful thinking. You hate it.

She leans in and your eyes close. She kisses the mark at the top right of your brow, her lips are soft and vanilla invades your senses to the point where it's all you can feel, all you can think of, all your thoughts telling you how nice it would be just to take it in for eternity, if you could.

Her hands come gently to the sides of your neck, fingertips vague on your throat, thumbs brushing against it. Minjoo kisses the bruise on the high rise of your cheekbone and you feel the condensation from her breath on you. She kisses your left cheek and you ignore the pain that surfaces from her actions. The bottom of your chin, and then she takes your hands and kisses each knuckle, your gaze unwavering, feeling your heart grow lighter and lighter and  _ oh, _ you're going to fly away, be swept away with this ocean of emotions that overtakes you. She won't look at you. What can you, can you do but concede into her actions? You lift her chin, beckoning her eyes into yours. 

Again. She leans in and leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth, leaving you anticipating, you take in the intensity of her gaze. 

  
  
  


“Do you feel better?”

  
  
  


All you can do is nod. 

  
  
  


Is the exhale she lets out of regret? You can't tell. Her fingers interlocked with yours. She lets go to check her phone, you watch as exasperation washes over her features. You see conflict. You see turbidity when she looks at you. “I'll tell your friends to take you to the hospital later. I've got to go now, okay?”

You see it. Fingers restless on the case of her phone. Eyes darting everywhere except onto you. That monotonous tone of hers. You wish you could be brave this once. 

  
  
  


This once. 

  
  
  


You see her rise, slowly, unwilling to face you before she left.  _ Just this once.  _ You hold her back by the wrist. 

You never ask.

Just this once, you'll ask. “Don't go,”

Your breath is hoarse and filled with all these inexplicable emotions you feel, all these unresolved feelings filling the room and the hesitation she shows breaks your heart, but just this once, you'll hold on. Pull through. Ask.

“Stay.

“Please, this once.”

And you're not sure if you mean just in this moment. This day. Your fingers slacken on her wrist. 

  
  


You would gladly die drowning in this vanilla scent of hers. She moves in closer to you, her arms carefully wrapping around your head and pulling you in. You hug her by her waist.

Time passes, like that. Sometime between your limbo of sleep and consciousness, you think she whispers.  _ “I wish you weren't like this,”  _

You think that's what it is, but it's probably your imagination.

  
  


—

  
  


Of course she's not there when you wake up. You don't know what you expected. 

You want to be understanding. 

You hear utensils shuffling in the kitchen and your heart rises. 

You ignore the way it drops when it's not her. You hope the confusion on your face overshadows the disappointment.

“Eunbi? When did you get here? How…” 

“Yena told me you had a run in with some robbers, are you feeling better? Your roommate let me in, she said you wanted to go to the hospital later, would you like to go now..?”

_ Roommate? _

“But my roommate's been out since the afternoon.”

“Oh, was that not your roommate? The brunette—”

“Long hair?”

“Yeah, is she not your roommate?”

You look away. Biting the inside of your cheek.

  
  


“No, she's just,”

_ Just? _

“Just someone, don't worry about it. Yeah, I think it's about time to go to the hospital, my jaw hasn't stopped aching and I need to get these cuts or whatever bandaged up.”

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  
  


_ Movement II _

  
  


Three days.

The doctor tells you to rest for three days. You don't attend any classes for three days.

You ignore Minjoo for three days.

You want to be understanding. 

But you can't keep up anymore. You can't put up with this endless game anymore.

You can't look at your phone and see those missed calls and messages and act like it was nothing. You wouldn't be able to take it anymore if she acted like it was nothing. You live in a transition state for three days, unsure of your own feelings, unsure of the world, unwilling to see things in anything but black and white and your chest grows heavy with all these provoking thoughts.

Why wouldn't she stay?

The one time you ask, why couldn't she stay?

Why does she play around with your heart like it's nothing?

_ Why do you keep letting her?  _

You shuffle out of bed when there's a knock on the door. The pain has subsided a little, thankfully, and your physical health is doing much better. You should do something about your mental health, though. It keeps getting worse, you have to do something about it.

  
  


Turning your back on her, you leave the door open for her to close. 

“Hey, are you doing better?”

Your symphony starts, gentle, you play softly, her words are smooth. “Yeah.”

When Minjoo runs a hand through her hair, sighing, you cross your legs on your bed and stare. 

You try to be understanding.

“You weren't in college and you haven't answered any of my calls so I thought something serious happened…”

Play softly, keep your pace. Try to be understanding.

“I was busy. Haven't really checked my phone.”

She rests on the back of your door. “Doing what? You could've let me know you were okay, it would barely take you a minute.”

She messes up the rhythm. You wince, losing your flow for a moment. You start again. Playing a bit harder. 

Forte.

Don't let your emotions seep into your music. “Why are you here, Minjoo?” 

But they find a way in, you can't help the way you say her name in exasperation and her melody turns yours sour. Minjoo raises her brows and maybe the scoff wasn't intended for you to hear. 

It gets faster. 

You can't keep being understanding. 

You let the storm of emotions brewing inside your tired heart take over your mind. 

  
  


“Should I not care for you, Chaewon?”

“Oh, I get it. You finally got a break from spending time with him so you decided to come see me, is that it?”

Now this scoff is definitely meant for you to hear.

Harsher. 

Into crescendo. Watching the disbelief paint her face. Her eyes narrow when you meet her gaze. A thought tells you to retract, to go back to the original beat, play it safe, don’t experiment too much. 

How much more will you understand, though? 

You can't take this monotonous beat anymore. 

“What are you trying to say?”

_“Please,_ like you don't know what I'm talking about. You know that I like you and you string me along like a plaything only to go play house with him. I don't get it, Minjoo, what do you get from playing games with me like this? Is that all _you_ _people_ know what to do? Treating lives like a joke, my feelings, are they just a joke to you?”

Faster, you go six beats per measure. Your words are biting. You've never seen Minjoo angry. A fleeting thought, you hate it comes at your expense. 

“You say you like me and go on dates with someone else. How about try sticking to one narrative? You can't even—!”

Off tune. She huffs, taking in a breath and her tone is more level. “I'm not  _ stringing _ you along anywhere, you're not a child who was forced into this situation with no thinking from your side. You agreed to this. You knew what you were getting into.”

You're amused and it's not pleasant. You lift a condescending brow and scoff. “Why does it bother you so much if I go on dates, huh? I can do whatever I want, you're not my g—” you swallow the word down. 

“Like you aren't getting a kick out of fucking around with me and going back to being lovey dovey with him… isn't that why we're still doing this? You're getting engaged, for fuck's sake. You've gotten everything you ever wanted in your life and now you just want some fun, isn't it? This is where you get your entertainment from, right? Seeing me play a fool?”

Your head rolls with your eyes and when you meet hers, the music stops for the smallest instance of time. She looks hurt. 

Her eyebrows go up in something you can't decipher. “Is that what you think of me? Am I just some sadist to you? And really, do you think that all I see you as is a plaything? You can't be  _ that _ fucking dense, can you? Haven't you taken a goddamn hint yet?”

You mess up. Half a beat too late, your words stuck in your throat for a beat. 

You go faster. 

“What? What hint am I supposed to take? Oh, was the green heart you posted with a picture of him supposed to reference me? Oh, how stupid of me! I should've noticed! What else do you see me as other than your fuck buddy? If you liked me, then you would've shown it! You wouldn't be on his snapchat story every single  _ fucking  _ day if you liked me. How am I supposed to believe you if you say something like that?  _ How, _ how do I trust you if you never do anything to show me the truth?”

Too loud. 

Too strong, your symphony rising above the air. Your voice gets more intense. Your emotions simmering on your countenance. 

“You're ridiculous…”

And it stings, because her voice is low, in contrast to yours. The harmonies too different. Her voice is bass and you don't know if you can trust what you see with your eyes glazed in anger. “You're so stupid. Do you think it's that simple? Do you think I can just tell my parents I don't want to get engaged to him? And you're one to ask for the truth, how do you expect me to do anything, to believe anything _ you  _ do, to give  _ you  _ a sign when all you do is send me mixed signals? Like, if you really liked me that much, shouldn't you show me that you're worth risking it all for? How am  _ I  _ supposed to believe you if you're dating your fucking ex and say you like me like it's nothing?”

  
  
  


“How can I give you a sign if you're never going to end up being mine?”

  
  
  


You don't understand the furrow of her brows. You don't understand what she's trying to say, when a humourless laugh leaves her lips. You don't understand the disbelief. You don't understand why she looks so disappointed in you.

“You shouldn't be a  _ mature  _ prick all the time, Chaewon.”

You don't understand.

The music, your symphony keeps going faster and faster, sixteen beats but you can't find any words to say. 

It swells, you think the piece is reaching its climax. 

“Maybe we shouldn't…” she breathes. You can't look her in the eyes. She leaves, unfinished. 

  
  


Unfinished.

  
  


Her sentence dragging the air around you down. 

Your tempo is left messed up. 

  
  
  
  
  


With the click of your door shutting, your symphony ends.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  


_ Movement III _

  
  
  


You snatch Yena's beer out of her hands and slug it down. “You're driving us to the dorm. Don't drink,” you say, she frowns as she settles on the towel you sit on, to your left. 

For another two days, you hadn't gone to college because  _ it still hurts a lot, I can't even get out of bed _ and your friends were displeased to see you laying in your bed aimlessly, your bruises were fading and they wanted to lift your spirits up. 

They thought you were traumatized from the thug incident, probably. 

No. 

No one else but you knows why you feel so low. You feel like shit.

“It feels like there's an empty hole in my chest, Choi.”

You can't tell her the real reason, but at least you could play into what she thought you were sad about and get some comfort in return. Yena hugs you and you have to admit, it does make you feel a little better. 

“It's okay, Kim. Just don't take the subway from now, you have a license for a reason.”

“And so do you,” you say when her hand reaches for the can on your right and push her away. “Please, I don't want to die by the beach because my bestie was drunk driving and killed us tragically in a car crash.”

“Fine,”

She huffs, turning her gaze to the sea and you do the same. 

The seniors were throwing a beach party for reasons you don't care about and Yena and Hyewon thought this would be the thing that would get you to stop mulling alone in your bed. 

It's not that effective because  _ she  _ was also there and that's the last thing you want: to see her with him after the unresolved fight you had.  _ She's just proving you right.  _

You sink your feet into the sand, feeling the soft sunlight on your skin. The sun was setting, golden light pouring above the vast blue of the sea. 

“I think I know why I got beat up that day,”

Yena's eyes land on you again. You sink your feet in deeper. “Remember when I punched Hyunjin like, three weeks ago?”

“Yeah..? Wait, he wouldn't stoop that low, would he…”

You bark a laugh. “Oh, he would. His ego can't take it. Got a bunch of women to beat me up to save face and satisfy his macho manliness.”

“Man,” she looks for the blond guy in the crowd. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing, you know what they say. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind or whatever.”

She hums. 

You hear singing in the distance, laughter, music from a speaker and the waves crashing. A look around and you spot Hyewon occupied talking to some redhead you don't know. You wave and she makes your way over to you. 

“Speaking of Hyunjin…

“I heard he's finally dating Minjoo. I told you there was something between them!” 

She exclaims and you keep yours eyes on the sand. 

“How do you know?” Hyewon asks, maybe out of courtesy for you.

“My brother follows his finsta and he posted them holding hands or whatever with the caption  _ mine _ or something… I mean, doesn't that obviously show they're dating..?” 

Yena looks disappointed with the lack of reactions from you and Hyewon. You can feel Hyewon's gaze on you, choosing to ignore it. “Wow, I guess they are,” you say to please Yena and get Hyewon off your back. 

It's silent after that.

  
  


“Speaking of Minjoo…”

“Yena, don't—” Hyewon starts.

She continues, regardless. 

“No, Kim, why is she wearing your shirt?”

You look up to see her looking forward. “Huh?”

“Isn't that the shirt you were the day we went paintballing? All the paint stains are still there. You even painted  _ Kim  _ on the back, see?”

Following her gaze you see that you indeed painted Kim on the back. You don't remember why though. 

“Oh my god…”

She turns completely to face you, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you. “Are you dating Kim Minjoo? That would make so much sense, actually…” 

“No, I'm not.” you shove her hands off and scowl. Taking a swig from the can beside you. 

“Why's she wearing your shirt then? How'd it end up on her?”

Hyewon starts shushing Yena but you don't give a shit anymore, really. 

“We're fuck buddies. Or we used to be, I guess.”

“Oh, wow…”

There her figure stood, illuminated by the sun. You look away when you meet eyes. 

“No strings attached, just like that?”

  
  


“Yeah,”

Your heart burns with the setting sun.

“Just like that.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, for one, think both of them are being frustrating


	5. insight

  
  
  


— insight. —

  
  
  
  


_Prestissimo, Movement II_

  
  
  


“I suppose it didn't go well.” Baekhyun states when you close the door with a slam. He looks in the rear view mirror for a moment.

You wipe away the hot streams of tears on your cheeks — yes, you are an angry crier — feeling your breath waver as you exhale. 

You hate Kim Chaewon. No, that's a lie. You actually despise Kim Chaewon — you despise her so much and she's so _infuriating,_ like, why could she not see what you feel? How could she be so ignorant? Why can't she understand the complexity of your situation? Why can't she stop being a fucking coward and _do something?_

  
  
  
  


_“...I was willing to go through it for her.”_

  
  
  
  


“It's none of your business, Mr. Byun.”

You see him shrug his shoulders, fixing the mirror so it wasn't facing you anymore. “So it really didn't go well, then.”

He stifles a chuckle when you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

No, obviously. It did not go well. It went anything but well. Of all the possible scenarios that could've played out involving you going to her dorm, this had to be the worst. Maybe in some parallel universe you two were cuddling up with no uncertainty left in your feelings _—‘relationship’—_ but even the thought of that makes you seethe. You can't believe she's such an ass. You would never cuddle with someone who would make such one dimensional judgements about you.

She said _you people,_ just assuming you're just another rich girl caught up in the politics of your high social status — she called you sadistic, she knows you have no interest in Hyunjin and still accused you of being interested in him — she thinks that you're playing with her — no, really, how stupid does one have to be to believe something like that? Is that all she thinks you're doing? Is that all she takes away from the way you look at her? 

Does she not understand?

  
  


Does she not get it? You would _not_ be spending all that time with her if you didn't like her. Hell, you wouldn't even breathe in her direction if you didn't like her. And she has the _audacity_ to say it's just a game to you! 

When you're with her, your emotions are bare. You don't know how she can't see them. You clearly like her. Can she not see it? 

  
  
  
  


_“How can I give you a sign if you're never going to end up being mine?”_

  
  
  
  


So she's willing to go through _anything_ for her ex but not for you? Why, weren't you worth it? Couldn't she follow her heart this once, for you? Can't she fight for you? All of the talk about _thinking things through_ and _being mature when taking important decisions_ from her was getting tedious. Annoying. 

She's such an asshole. Such a coward. So biased towards her own worldview. She can't even see things from your perspective.

  
  


“You're going to break the window if you keep doing that, Ms. Kim.”

You take the finger off the button controlling the window. “Mr. Byun, aren't you like ten years older than me?”

“Nine.”

“Same thing, whatever,”

He nods. “You must've driven around tons of rich people, the CEOs, celebrities, politicians, their families, whatnot. Right?”

“Right.”

“You must hear lots of things.”

“Yes.”

“And it never occurs to you that you could potentially destroy their lives with the information you know? Like, you could take down any of the _big bad baddies_ in the country. Haven't you ever leaked the tiniest bit of info to anyone?”

Baekhyun laughs and turns to see the look on your face since you were at a red light. “If I did then the _big bad baddies_ would have had me killed, Ms. Kim.” 

“Hmm.” you fumble with the ends of your sleeves, pondering. He's the only other person besides Hyewon that knows about your little affairs with Chaewon, after all. And he's trustworthy, you assume. He wouldn't be the person driving you around if he wasn't. 

“Isn't it cumbersome to hear these wealthy bastards complain about their problems when other people go through so much worse?”

He accelerates, you hold on to the back of the seat in front of you. “Yes, but that's the way the world is. I can't change it. I've a lot of time to think about these sorts of things and there isn't another answer—it is what it is.”

Are you really going to complain about your problems to your driver who has no obligation to listen to you? 

Hyewon was occupied with her brother's wedding preparations so you don't think telling her about your fight with Chaewon would lessen her stress. You can't exactly go tell your parents _so there's this girl I like that is not Hyunjin and she's being cross with me because you're forcing me into this marriage with him so maybe not do that haha_ and telling him wouldn't be that bad, would it? You've known Baekhyun since middle school. He must feel weirdly protective over you in a way that is appropriate enough. You even joke around and all…

“You know, right? About the girl I keep spending time with.”

“The one whose dorm we've just been to? I have a faint idea, yes,” the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “And of the confusing relationship you have with her too.”

You raise a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I'm going to assume you just had a fight, probably because of your obligations to Mr. Hwang.”

“Close enough.

“Haven't you seen this situation before, like in all your experience with the top one percent in the country? There must've been some instance like mine.”

“Most people don't let their driver drive them around with their lover in the backseat, Ms. Kim.”

You feel your ears heat up. You hate the fluttering building in your chest. “We're not lovers…”

He utters an _oh._ “But yes, there have been instances of this denial of arranged marriage, at least.”

You bite your lips. Watching the neon lights of the stores pass by as you took a turn. “I mean, shouldn't she understand that I can't get out of something like this out of my own will? She should be the one showing me that I should fight for her, right? What's so hard to understand about that? She should tell me she likes me out right and be brave, be proud about it; not go dating around other people…”

He hums and you suppose he needs time to process your situation. A city pop song plays on the radio. 

You gaze at the sky. Pink and white. 

Summer breeze bringing thoughts to a halt. 

“I doubt she would think she had the power to stand up against Mr. Kim. Your family is considerably high profile, after all.”

“But that's…” you sigh. Your anger fading, you start to reflect on your actions. Maybe you weren't seeing things from her point of view. “...I guess... she does think that way.”

“I guess if you assure her of your feelings then she shouldn't avoid circumstances by ‘dating around other people’ and think it through,”

Yeah, she shouldn't avoid the consequences of having feelings for you and face it, but do you really _assure her of your feelings,_ though? 

She probably didn't even know you liked her (back) until today. Surely some of that is her fault because how much more obvious could you be, but some of the blame falls on you too because — because you've never admitted it to her out in the open, in your own words, have you? They say actions speak louder than words but it seems your actions haven't done anything but lead Chaewon into thinking you're just playing a fun little game. 

Now that you think of it, she never said a straight _I like you_ to you, either. You had to confront her about it. She never said it of her own accord, no? 

_So why should I be expected to say it?_

No. You can't be like that. Your relationship won't go anywhere if both of you think like that. You bite the inside of your cheek, drawing white lines on the leather seats. “Perhaps I haven't been that showing of my emotions, or perhaps she couldn't notice them…” 

“Oh. Then I suppose you can understand why she could be upset with you, Ms. Kim.”

Why could she be upset with you?

How do you think like Kim Chaewon?

Hm.

If she didn't know that you liked her all these days, then how would she have perceived your actions?

If you didn't know that she liked you and yet acted the way she did… then maybe you'd think she didn't take you seriously at all.

  
  


It does make sense. It's ridiculous for her to think the way you act with her was disingenuous just because you were rich but you can empathize. “Yeah.”

“Those people in the arranged marriages… what happened to them? Do… you know anything of that sort?”

“Not in particular, to be honest.”

“Oh, okay.”

  
  


You don't want to be with Hyunjin. These days, however, it feels like you have no other choice. No other options. Your parents would resent you for it, probably. You don't want to live your life abiding to their rules — and you know they'll force you to do so if you deny Hyunjin of spending time with you and rejecting his advances. You wish Chaewon would give you courage, somehow. You wish nothing less of a miracle. Somehow, you wish you could weasel yourself out of this engagement. If only.

Baekhyun takes a left turn when you reach the COEX mall and you wonder what's with the sudden change of route. “Where to, Mr. Byun?”

“Your brother, Ms. Kim. He landed in Korea this afternoon and your father instructed me to pick him up.”

“What? Chani's here? He didn't even tell me he was coming back…”

Ugh, now you have to spend three more hours in the car to pick your brother up and get home. Why was he coming back from Taiwan anyway? You wouldn't get it—he always makes these impulsive decisions and you can never understand why. 

“You won't tell him a single word about _her,_ yes?”

He chuckles. “You have my word, Ms. Kim.”

  
  


And fatigue takes over you as you lean back into the seat. God, when were you going to talk to Chaewon again? Would you stop seeing each other now? Isn't that what you were implying? You hope she won't take any rash decisions before you start speaking again.

She won't, right? Hopefully she puts her rational mind to practice and doesn't do anything. 

  
  
  
  


“Forgive me if I cross a line but, you look good with her, Ms. Kim.”

You smile. Condescending, practiced. A sigh leaving your words, you can't deny the lightness in your heart. 

“I know.”

  
  
  
  


Maybe you should apologize. You should talk it out.

Only if she approaches you first, though. Because let's be realistic, you are _not_ that selfless and you certainly _are_ that petty—

  
  


[—At least when it comes to Kim Chaewon.]


	6. entropy, zero degrees celsius

  
  
  


— entropy, zero degrees celsius [273 K] —

  
  
  
  
  


_You're floating._

Faint recollections of your dreams play through your mind. You're lost somewhere between bliss and consciousness, it doesn't feel like the morning's come yet. You peek at your windows to check for the sunrays colouring your room yellow. It was still a dull grey, maybe a little blue. That means you still have about an hour before you wake up _officially,_ so you shift in bed to lie on your side and a sense of contentment settles in your chest knowing you'll get an extra hour of sleep. 

She's right there, right beside you. Resting her head on an arm perched up, gazing at you with that soft smile on her face. You wonder, how she manages to look ethereal without even trying. “You should wake up soon, Min…”

Her voice is low, almost dripping with drowsiness and you mumble as you pull her in closer, looping your arms around her. “Just an hour more, promise…”

Chaewon laughs, she brings a hand to cup your face and you lean into her touch, her lips are faint on your forehead; you start to feel giddy. 

“What's with you?” your words are unclear against the crook of her neck and she doesn't respond. You were always the one initiating this sort of skinship, so it's nice to see her take initiative for once—it sends a rush of adrenaline, excitement through your blood, you feel yourself warming up.

“It's better if you wake up now, baby, it's better than being late for classes,” 

Biting back a smile, you lean away from her to catch the look in her eyes. She never calls you that unless you were in, um, very specific situations and honestly, you wish she would call you that more often. There's just something about the way it rolls off her tongue, the tone she commands when she says it, the look on her face, it's just—you can't explain it, really.

  
  


“But babe,” your voice rises a little and it's embarrassing; you're just testing the waters. “I wanna spend some more time in bed with you.” You say with a grin on your face in hopes of seeing her ears go red and her cheeks a rosy pink. She would act all tough and unaffected but the fluster in her voice, avoidant eyes and pink tints give her away all the time. You expect her to act that way.

She doesn't. 

Instead, she takes hold of your shoulders, grip lax. 

  
  


“Wake up,” 

  
  


You frown at the lack of reaction. 

  
  


“Chae, wh—”

  
  
  
  
  


“Wake up! Minjoo, why aren't you awake yet!” 

Your brother's voice pierces through your door and irritation seeps into your morning—god, he's managed to piss you off already and the day hasn't even started yet. 

“I'm gonna come in! Tell your boyfriend to hide in the closet if he's in there, I don't wanna see anything traumatizing this early in the morning!”

He gives this imaginary boyfriend of yours 2 seconds before barging into your room, an annoying, toothy grin on his face. “You're twenty something and still sleeping with a plushie, cuddling all up to it in your sleep.” 

Chani laughs (and yet it sounds like a scoff to you) and walks over to your closet, dramatic as he opens it. Disappointed when he finds nothing (no one) there. 

“C'mon, you didn't call Hyunjin over for the night? Mom and dad really got to you, huh, our _princess_ will do no wrong—!”

You throw a pillow at him.

“What is your problem, Chan—it's not even six yet! What are you doing up so early?”

“I wanted to spend some time with you before you left for college, and I'll even drive you there, if you want.”

“Why?”

He scoffs, for real this time. “So you don't want to spend time with your brother, is that it?”

“Yes, that's it.”

Your head was aching from the impromptu party at the beach last night, you didn't need Chani adding to your list of stresses. _Stresses,_ the latest one being Chaewon—of all people—avoiding you.“Well, whatever, you're so mean. We actually have to be at the Kangs' in about fifteen minutes, so I'd like to see how fast you can get ready!” he says skipping out of your room, effectively throwing all your _what? why?_ questions out the window.

You rise to sort your bed out, folding your blankers, putting the pillows in place, smoothening out your sheets, and — wait, wait.

Your ears start to heat up.

You were dreaming of Chaewon, weren't you? 

She was holding you in your sleep. Whispering in your ear. With you.

  
  


You don't usually have unrealistic dreams. _Holding you in your sleep?_ That's probably the last thing she'd want to do now. 

She wouldn't even look at you—and wow, she is incredibly good at giving you the cold shoulder that you're kinda impressed. 

She wouldn't even look at you.

You suppose you should give her her shirt back. 

You wonder if she noticed.

  
  


Did she?

If she did, what would she think of it?

  
  


You were hoping that she would approach you to ask for it back and you could work out a conversation from there, but she was adamant on avoiding you the whole night.

You were left guessing what her thoughts could be. 

Considering what she said to you last time, she must've thought it was just another ploy to mess her mind up. Maybe she thought you were still playing games with her and she didn't want to ‘fall into your trap’ again. 

Maybe she still can't see all the ways you feel for her.

Your hopes are in vain. 

You can't control the way she thinks. You wish you could, but you can't. Even if she was being frustrating.

  
  


It's all downhill from here, isn't it?

You sigh.

  
  


Should you make the first move?

  
  


Then you'd feel like you're the one doing all the work in what's supposed to be a _joint_ effort, no? You should know she feels the need to fix things. She should feel like there could be something between the two of you and approach you. She should want to pursue you. She should take initiative.

_What if she never makes the move you want her to make?_

Then what? What would become of you two?

  
  


You want to be headstrong, stubborn. 

  
  


_How much clearer can you make it for her?_

_How far will you go?_

  
  
  


You want her to want you.

  
  
  


Can't she approach you, this once? 

  
  
  


Can't she go out of her way and do it for you?

  
  
  
  


—  
  
  
  


“You don't need to walk me that far. I can go from here,” 

He messes up your hair and ignores you.

“Come on, let me take a look at my little sister's college.”

You pinch the skin between your eyebrows when he continues to walk beside you when all you want is to get to class without drawing any unnecessary attention to yourself. “Don't pretend like you don't want to have a few college girls fawn over you for a while——and take the sunglasses off, you look ridiculous.”

“No, I don't.”

That shit eating grin of his reaching his eyes, even if you can't see it. “People would love to see us together! I mean, we're _the_ Kim siblings, it's not everyday they'd get to see me beside you,”

Of course. Your brother is quite the sensation in the media for being cunning, or rather devious in his business tactics and for being very _himself_ in general. You honestly think he should tone down his personality a little when you're in public but he never listens. He brings an arm around your shoulder in a death grip and you don't have the fight in you to fend him off.

“I don't think anyone gives a shit, Chani…”

“Please, Min, are you blind or am I just hallucinating all these phones focused on the both of us?”

“What?” 

God, why can't people just mind their own business? You lift your chin up, looking down on these strangers who have nothing better to do. 

  
  


She wasn't even looking at you, so what was the point? 

  
  


You pinch the back of his hand and he retracts with _ow!_ and you would've shooed him away if black loafers didn't halt you in your path, laces tied perfectly. 

Today is just not going to be good at all for you, is it?

“Minjoo, hey. I wanted to talk to you in the morning but I didn't get a chance to, my dad insisted that I talk to Mr. Kang and I won't really be free later so… I was wondering if you wanted to go see this musical with me tonight? I have the tickets and all,

“Now all I need is you.”

Chani hangs an arm over your shoulders again and god, you wish somehow he could tell: that you don't want to go and tell Hyunjin for you. 

  
  


It's not so simple for you to tell him yourself. 

The one time you ditched him was when you went bicycling with Chaewon by the Han river: you told him you wouldn't be free that evening, then you suppose he conveyed that to your parents (unfortunately for you that was one of the days his family came over for dinner again,) and you got back home to be reprimanded for letting an opportunity to get closer to him slip away. 

_“What if he loses interest in you? Playing hard to get helps no one, Minjoo,”_

_“Not to mention, his mother isn't particularly fond of you already—so get your act together and just go out when he asks you to.”_

  
  


“Wait, Min, are you being bashful just because I'm here? No, don't be that way! I won't come between your date! She'll be there, Hyun, don't worry. She's always so shy to express herself in front of me.”

God, you're going to fucking kill him. 

But he doesn't really know you don't like Hyunjin romantically, does he? The last time he saw you two together was almost four years ago. 

What does he know, of the newfound burdens on your heart?

You force a smile when Hyunjin says he'll message you the details later. You tell Chani to fuck off when you reach class and he mistakes the redness of your cheeks for embarrassment. 

  
  
  
  
  


Your head is lost up in the clouds. 

Every word said loses its way in your mind. From Yuri telling you about something related to last night to the professor's lecture on marketing (as he graciously scribbled on the board) — going in one ear and going out the other as is. You don't make any attempts to understand the sentences blending in like white noise compared to your thoughts. 

Your head is lost in daydreams of your dream. 

It feels like you're in a haze. 

But it's restlessness.

Doodles in blue ink in your notebook. Spinning your pen no matter how many times it falls to the ground. A pointless rhythm between your fingers, the wooden desk. Tap, tap, tap. 

Your mind is clouded with emotionally unavailable girls who punch boys that badmouth you. Girls that carry the faint scent of strawberries and say your name with such emotion that you start to fear it. This idiot who can't even look you in the eyes when you most want her to. 

She becomes a state of mind, Kim Chaewon who has you on your toes every moment.

  
  
  


“Minjoo!”

Yuri slams a hand in front of your face. 

You look up to her from your place on the desk. 

“What.” 

She flicks your forehead. 

“Class is over.”

“Oh.”

Your cheek is cold when you rise. A weak hit to Yuri's shoulder.

“Why are you so out of it today?”

To be honest, you feel guilty. Because you _did_ agree that you wouldn't tell anyone about the little deal you have with Chaewon—but you can't help it. You can't help the hurt, you can't keep all the emotions of Kim Chaewon to yourself. Also: you didn't tell Yuri the whole story of course, you just told her you took a liking to a random someone that she may or may not know. No names, no mentions of being friends with benefits. All she knows is that you like someone and it's complicated.

  
  


“So, you remember the person I told you I was _kinda_ but not really seeing?”

“Yeah…? You can just tell me who it is, you know, you're so annoying when you're being ambiguous like this. Like, you don't have to keep secrets from me, Min, we're best friends!”

“Oh come _on,_ the last time I told you I had a crush on someone you wouldn't stop giggling when we passed by in the hallways. You fumbled up my chances!”

“That was—! Fine, whatever. What about them?”

You hope you meet eyes when your gaze is fixated on Chaewon and her friends across the corridor (and you're not sure how Yuri hasn't figured it out yet) but she doesn't even look in your general direction. She continues to laugh over something her friend says, the light bruises on her cheek rising with her smile. 

You spot her hand in bandages, again.

It's stupid, but you can't help but frown.

Did Eunbi take her to the hospital that day? Was she mad at you for leaving? Wait, was that why she was so mad at you?

Did she tell Eunbi about you? 

Does Eunbi visit her and caress her pain away, the way you want to? 

Does it still hurt?

Does she make the pain disappear?

  
  
  


“We got into a fight…” 

Yuri gasps. You look away. 

How was she so good at avoiding you? 

“Damn, was it 'cause of him?”

“Kinda… but, we both were at fault too… I, I acted real stupid…”

She sighs, deeply. An elbow on your shoulder and her hand patting the back of your head. “Kim Minjoo, you really don't have it easy, do you?”

You nod, unable to help your self pity and you would've been on your way to your next class if it wasn't for Hyewon holding you back by the wrist.

You tell Yuri you'll catch up with her later and raise a brow when the frown stays. “What...”

  
  
  


“Come on, Minjoo. You know—”

“What, what am I supposed to know?”

Hyewon runs a hand through her hair, huffing. “What happened between you and Chaewon? You guys aren't talking to each other, she's not been herself the last few days, you were completely dazed in the morning, so, what happened?”

You seethe, tension building in your jaw and nothing short of a glare in your eyes. Her lips form a straight line. She doesn't buy your faux annoyance. 

God. 

Why can't _she_ do something? 

You look behind Hyewon to see her turn one eighty degrees, showing you her back. “Did she not tell you? We, um... got into a disagreement.”

She looks at you in distaste.

“Oh, so you're acting like this because you fought..? 

“Get over it already! You're not children to give each other the silent treatment.”

“I'm not mad anymore! I just—I just want her to make the first move.” Hyewon scoffs. 

“You said you're in love with her and you want _her_ to make the first move? She seems really mad this time. Do you really think she'll reach out first?”

You choke on your words. They rise up, uncomfortably burning your throat.

You don't catch the way she shakes her head when you fumble over your words. You don't catch the disbelief on her face when your ears turn red. “Hey, hey! I didn't—I said that when I was drunk—it doesn't count! It was just drunken rambling! I couldn't even remember that I said that. You, you didn't tell her that, right? Did you..?”

“No.”

  
  


And you don't catch how she wants to strangle you to death when you heave a sigh of relief. But you do catch the exasperation on her face and try to smile. 

“Listen, I'll—I'll sort it out later, okay? I promise, I will.”

  
  


Hyewon doesn't seem to believe you. 

“Don't let her slip away, Min. You won't let go of her that easily, will you?”

She puts a hand on your shoulder and it slides off, she turns away. You try not to crumble under the gravity of your situation. You take it in stride.

  
  


Yuri flails when you catch up with her. “So the person you're seeing is Kim Chae—!” 

You're haste when your hand covers her mouth. Your brows furrow and she takes hold of your wrists. “Keep it down, dumbass.”

“Were you eavesdropping or something? Weirdo.”

“No—I just heard Hye say you and _Chaewon,”_ she whispers the name. You roll your eyes. “You could've told me! I wouldn't do anything,” 

She proceeds to turn around to wave at Hyewon, catching Chaewon's attention in the process. Giggling when she faces you. You look at her, blankly. Yuri nods. “Sorry, I just can't help it.”

  
  


You would absolutely _love_ to tell Yuri all the details of your relationship with Chaewon but you've already zoned out in one of your classes because of the girl and you're not going to waste the one other class you have today on her. You listen. It's boring, but you still listen.

  
  
  


—

  
  
  


You don't usually spend this much time with him. 

It was past sunset, you spot the top of the sky darkening as its colours faded with grey infusing them. No clouds in the sky, yet you feel a cool breeze sway. Your hair blown back, your ears start to feel cold. His footsteps are slow and you follow his pace, the shuffling of your feet, chatter from your house, the wind blowing suspended in the air for you to hear. He always insists on walking you to your doorstep: even when he could just drive you to the front door, he chooses to park outside the gates and walk the lengths of the garden with you. 

“I had a great time today,” he starts, his voice too low for the sounds relaying in your mind. You take a glance at his face. Still, the same smile. Bashful. Prideful. You can't tell what overpowers the other. 

The musical was good, but honestly, you don't think you're the kind of person who likes musicals. You don't remember what it was called but it was three and a half hours long, and the traffic meant staying in his car for about an hour more. His music taste is not that bad, but it doesn't match with yours. 

You hum when his gaze stays on you. “What was the musical called? The Man Who Laughs, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. It was nice.”

Your footsteps come to a stop, you turn away from your door to face him. “It was nice, Hyun. Also… there's something I wanted to talk about.”

He raises his shoulders, hands slipping into his pockets. “Sure. Shoot away.”

“Chani told me you're telling your friends we're together and whatnot.”

“What?” his eyebrows furrow and you raise yours. “No, no! You got it wrong, Min—I just posted a picture from like, _years_ ago! You weren't even seen in it! It was from prom, remember, back in high school? We went together, it was from then! I swear I wasn't saying things like that—my friends must've got the wrong idea. Don't worry about it,”

“Oh, okay.”

“But Minjoo…

Don't you wanna date me yet?”

You open your mouth to say something, anything—but you see the way his eyes land behind you, you can barely hear the door opening. He bows.

You exhale, cold biting at your skin.

“Give me some time,” 

You manage a smile and a firm hand grips your shoulder. 

  
  


“Everything's going well, I presume? He isn't bothering you too much, is he, sweetie?”

Your father laughs when you shake your head no. “Good. I'm keeping an eye on you, Hyunjin, don't you dare treat my princess wrong.” You wince but they're too busy slapping their knees and joking around to notice. 

“I'll never do anything Minjoo doesn't want me to do, Mr. Kim.”

You say your goodbyes. You don't know why he thinks it's a good idea to give you a peck on the cheek but he does it, anyway. 

Your hand would be red, stinging with pain now if your dad wasn't right beside you. 

  
  
  
  


Staring at your ceiling. It feels like something's missing from your bed.

It's not fair.

It's not your fault that you were born into a family with such lust for wealth. It's not your fault that Hyunjin happened to have his eyes on you for so long that your parents saw a business opportunity out of it. It's not fair for you to be forced into living the life your parents do. It's not right. The way you have to conform to their wishes. The way you're expected to live _your_ life the way they want you to. The fear, quiet in your heart, when you think of speaking back. 

It's not.

You sigh into the air. There's no point in feeling bad for yourself. 

You have to face circumstances the way they are.

Rolling over, you bring a pillow to cover your head. The weight of it keeps you grounded, it keeps your thoughts from wandering far away. You try to find warmth, solace in the space between your pillows and sheets. 

  
  
  


_You won't let go of her that easily, will you?_

  
  
  


Will you?

  
  


Won't she reach out?

Doesn't she want you to be hers?

  
  
  


(Why won't you reach out?

Don't you want her to be yours?)

  
  
  


Won't she be understanding?

(Won't you?)

  
  


If she doesn't do anything, will you not either?

No calls. No messages. No signs.

Will you let it fade away like this?

Will you?

Will she?

It won't take more than a minute.

It won't hurt. Just do it. No one wins if you're both being this way. 

Swallow your pride.

Do it. 

  
  
  


You message.

Plead.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

No answers. No signs.

  
  


You bite your lips, fingers hesitant across her name in your contacts. What if she doesn't pick up, once, twice, thrice? 

Then what?

  
  
  


She won't let go of you that easily, will she?

  
  
  


Your pillows, your sheets, they offer no comfort in the coming hours. 

  
  


You call. One, two, three.

No answers.

No signs.

No warmth from the four walls of your room.

Nothing from her, your night spent in nothing, nothing but these countless, endless, _hopeless_ sighs. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. entropy, burning up

  
  
  


— entropy, burning up. —

  
  
  
  
  


“I hate weddings,”

Chani whispers in your ear and you turn to look at him for a brief moment. You would elbow his ribs if you weren't taking a picture with your family for the press, it wouldn't paint a good picture on the Kim family if you showed any other expressions than the standard one: a pretty smile, an innocent glint in your eyes, your hand on your father's shoulder and Chani's on your mother's as your family, with the Kangs, posed.

The photographer nods before calling on the Lees to replace you. “Why?”

“Whenever I'm at one, I can't help but wonder who's gonna be next.” 

He fiddles with the cuffs of his tux, taking a seat at the table so graciously labelled _Kim Taehyuck and family._ Your parents are off having a conversation with some guy you've only seen in newspapers and you follow suit. “It's probably you. Don't they want you to get married to Ko Jeonghwa, or maybe her sister?”

Chani scoffs before pointing behind you, “Nah, it's going to be Lee Changbin and Kang Nara, I heard they're dating. After them, my dear sister, it's going to be you.”

You scoff back, folding your arms as you lean back into your chair. “As if they'd get me married before you, can you imagine the bad press that'd bring? People will think you're celibate or something,”

He doesn't retort with a list of all the girls he's dated in the past, as you expect him to—instead, he frowns, his lips tugging down fully. 

  
  


“Don't you want to marry Hyunjin?”

  
  


What?

How did he even come to that conclusion? 

Why would that be the first thing he thought of? 

You're caught off-guard and you're not sure if it shows. You clear your throat, sitting up. “What?”

“Haven't you liked him since, I dunno, middle school?”

You'd sneer, _you_ liking _him_ since _middle school?_ Just what kind of parallel universe was Chani in, because if you were in it too, things would be much easier for you. Right, isn't that around the time your parents sent him to boarding school for being a hot blooded reckless teenager? Maybe you told him you thought Hyunjin was handsome one day and he just went with it, solidifying your relationship with Hyunjin as: _oh, so they're gonna get married when they're older._

You would sneer but your parents take their seats next to you. Chani raises a confused brow at you and you feign ignorance. 

“They're doing this much and it's not even the ceremony yet. He's burning a hole in his pocket for this,” your father says, looking at Mr. Kang. 

“He just wants to show off, sweetie.”

Your mother brings a hand over yours, squeezing it with a soft smile. “We'll do much better for Min's wedding, hm?”

You share the smile, squeezing her hand back. 

“Of course. Hyunmin's willing to spend anything for his son, but I can do multitudes more for my precious princess, can't I, _Minmin?”_

“Definitely, dad. You'll do anything for her, right? We know you'll do anything,” Chani answers for you after you look at him in covered distress. Your father frowns at the inflection of his tone and you try not to wince at the sarcasm. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“I'm beat,”

Hyewon complains later that night when all the parents have gone to their rooms for a good night's sleep and you groan in response. “God, I can't even imagine how much you've done today, I'm tired from just standing around and looking pretty.”

“It's the price you have to pay being an actor's sister, y'know. It's bad enough he wanted the wedding to be in Jeju—like, the most cliched place ever—he wanted to make a spectacle out of it and has me filming _aesthetic_ videos to post on his youtube channel. I'm pretty sure he wants to flaunt the family's wealth at this point, like father, like son,”

“Considering it's his wedding and all, are they pressing you to find someone yourself? _Someone_ being male, rich, influential and handsome, of course.”

She rolls her eyes and takes hold of her phone. “No, they're not into the arranged marriage thing. Only the nosy aunties were, no one else.

“You can't say the same, can you?”

You exasperate, hands forming into fists and look at her with a pout. “I'm losing my mind, Hye—they're _so_ hellbent on this marriage when we're not even engaged yet! We're not even dating, for fuck's sake! I swear, in their imagination I'm on my way to having—” you squirm at the thought, “—a second child with—, you get the gist.”

The pity on her face lasts for about four seconds. “Well, fret not. Your princess charming is finally here.”

She ignores the quizzical look on your face and pays attention to the ringing of her phone instead. “Hey, you got in? Yeah, it's room 205—Yena's with you, right? Okay, I'll come up later,”

“You flew them in?”

She has the _is it not obvious?_ look on her face. “Yeah, did you think I was going to spend three days in Jeju with these narcissistic assholes? Also, Yena kept saying she wanted to see how a rich person wedding would look, so…”

You hum. 

The only response you got out of her that day was a phone call the next morning asking if you were alright. _Yes,_ you breathed, wondering if you should just confront her on the phone. Then she hit you with an _alright, then_ and you're not sure why that left you tongue tied the way it did, but she cut the call short and you couldn't muster up the courage to face her again. She _still_ wouldn't talk to you after that, like, how far would she take her silent treatment? It's almost been a week. How long will she take? 

How much will she make you wait? 

“Did you talk to her yet?”

Hyewon looks at you in disbelief when you remain silent. “I tried to! But, you know, she didn’t want to talk to me back, what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Yeah, in ten years when the third Hwang Kim child is on the way you’ll be the one telling me what you should’ve done all those years ago to not be stuck in your loveless marriage. You’re acting like fucking idiots, like… I cannot talk sense into you two egotistical maniacs.”

The distaste in her tone hurts a little. 

She excuses herself when she gets a call from her brother, leaving you lost in a sea of dim lights, white chairs and the night sky. 

  
  
  


“Wait, Hye!”

  
  
  


“What was it, _two zero five_ _?"_

  
  
  
  


-

  
  
  
  


Minjoo takes in a deep breath. _205_ is in gold, allowing her to make out fragments of her reflection. 

A faint _come in!_ sounds from the other side of the door. The metal is cold against her palm when she twists the handle. 

When the door closes with a click, her eyes trail from her feet to Chaewon's back. She was sorting out her luggage, so it seems. “Yena went out to search for you, did you see her on the way?” 

“No, not really.”

She stills for a moment. 

Minjoo redirects her attention from looking around the room to taking in the emotions on her countenance, a bit of shock, surprise, maybe resentment, maybe something she doesn't know. 

“Oh.”

“Hey…” Minjoo trails as she leans on dark blue walls, eyes fixated on the carpet floor as Chaewon's gaze remains on her. 

“Wow, you look…”

Chaewon breathes. Her breath catches in her throat when Minjoo looks up. 

_Amazing?_

_Ethereal?_

_Stunning?_

_Drop-dead gorgeous?_

_Like the love of my life?_

What?

“...Nice.”

Minjoo doesn't react the way she expects her to. She doesn't flash her a knowing smile and there's no eyebrow raising, no whispers of _I know_ in her ear, no rises and falls in her words. She just stands there, fingers laced together as one thumb picks at another and maybe she's getting ahead of herself when she sees faint pink dust the girl's cheeks, there's no meaning when it spreads to her neck and all of a sudden she can't take her eyes off collarbones and smooth shoulders. 

She clears her throat. 

“Um... I guess—, I think that we should talk.”

“Oh, sure.” Chaewon shuffles on her bed to push her bags away and pats the space next to her. 

Minjoo is hesitant. Shouldn't it be a bit harder than this? Why was she relenting after all the effort to avoid her like the plague? She watches Chaewon move back a little to put more distance between them at her reluctance. The sheets get warmer, a sigh before her words.

“What do you want to talk about...?”

She considers scoffing but it's too late into the night and she's tired after a long day of standing around, looking pretty. 

“What do you think,” her words are lazy, Chaewon scratches behind her ear and breaks her gaze. 

Did it have to be now?

Her feelings are still all over the place. She hasn't put much thought to them. All these days, she's avoided her own mind the way she's been avoiding Minjoo. Who knows what would happen the moment she reflected on her emotions? How would she answer the endless questions her reflections would bring? How would she deal with the angst, the dread that'll rise up? 

She doesn't want to think. 

Doesn't want to understand.

Doesn't want to get to the bottom of these confusing feelings, doesn't want to get why this situation is the way it is. 

Did they need to do this now?

Chaewon can't tell if it's anything when Minjoo runs a hand through her hair and exhales. It could be annoyance, it could be frustration. Could be nothing.

Maybe she's overthinking. 

Late night delusions messing with her mind.

“Fine, just… listen to me.

“I'm sorry. For the things I said that day. And… for leaving with no explanation before that. I was being too irrational and couldn't see where you were coming from and, I—, I didn't want there to be any unresolved issues about all that anymore, I should've been more understanding…”

Gears start spinning in Chaewon's head. Was she trying to end whatever this is? Like, they're at a wedding, her family was here, he was here, it's just by chance that she happened to be here too, what if they're announcing their engagement today—tomorrow? What if it's already been announced? That's partially why she wanted to avoid confrontation, isn't it? The fear of losing this. Losing her. 

Would it end in this expensive hotel room as she remains undecided? 

_Will you really let her go that easily?_

“Minjoo, what, what are you—”

“Wait,” 

She brings a hand up to interrupt Chaewon's question. God, her ears feel like they're burning. Her face, her skin heats up and the room suddenly feels way hotter. Why is it so hard to say it? It's just words. Words she has to say for Chaewon to finally understand, but they feel so heavy on her chest, weighing down her lungs, lodged in her throat and clinging to the tip of her tongue. 

A glance at her face doesn't help: it sends the same wave of overwhelming wanting through her being; the concern (confusion?) etched on her face when she leans forward has her sigh in longing, she was right beside her and yet, not hers.

“Um, I really like you, Chae–won, I like you a lot.” 

It feels like steam blows out her ears, her eyes darting everywhere except onto Chaewon. It wouldn't help much looking at her face anyway, she still looked confused—if not more than before. “I'm not playing around with you and I don't think what we have is a little game. I don't spend time with you just to entertain myself, I do it because—because you just make everything easier, I don't know how but everything else just fades away and I wish, I don't want to—, I wanted you to know that,”

_What feeling is this supposed to be?_

Whatever it is, it spreads through Chaewon's chest when she sees Minjoo let out a deep breath, her pale skin turning red with each passing second, not looking at her—why won't she look at her?—with her hands balling into fists and relaxing. All she does is stare, all she hears filling in the silence is the girl's quiet breaths, the faint rustling of the sheets. 

She's not sure what it is exactly. 

Perhaps it's because it's been a hectic day for her, rushing to pack all her clothes and reach the airport on time, her mind has just given up on thinking any sensible thoughts and is running on autopilot. Maybe because the night is a bit too dark, it's a bit too late, a bit too silent for her to come up with anything coherent in response. 

Maybe she's just not in the right mind.

Maybe it's the fluorescent lights bouncing on dark blue walls, deluding her senses, the light jasmine of Minjoo's perfume filling her lungs. So white, so pure, so pretty. 

Maybe it's just because Minjoo looked so beautiful tonight that she cuts the girl off when she starts another sentence, moving forward to kiss her and feeling the warmth from the girl's hands when she cups her face. 

Her arms wrap around her waist when thumbs press down into her cheekbones, fingers brush against her sideburns. Minjoo shifts till she faces her and Chaewon pulls her in closer, as close as she can, her heartbeat rising despite the slow pace of their kisses. 

She hugs her by the shoulders and legs cross around Chaewon's waist, the soft lips on hers become more impatient, hands outline the curves of her body. This longing, wanting, yearning. Hoping she'd understand with each kiss getting messier. Disordered. More spontaneous than before. 

The air around her feels volatile. 

_You'll combust._

Minjoo’s fingertips trail down her arms before coming to settle on her chest, and fuck, her heart's on fire, she wonders if she can feel the harsh beating of her heart, how her body would refuse to conceal her true feelings, refuse to lie to her. “I missed you so much, baby,” her breath is hot against Minjoo's skin, she presses sloppy kisses on the slope of the girl's shoulder, wanting to embellish her flesh a pretty red but waiting, not yet. She tries not to groan at the sound of her voice but Chaewon's fingers are slipping under her dress and drawing patterns on the sensitive skin of her thighs, how can she not when her words are smooth, effortless? “I was going crazy, you know.”

“All those times I wanted to hold you like this,” an arm slithers around her waist and tightens its grip, her sentences muffled against collarbones, she sucks in a deep breath. “All those times you crossed my mind,” Nails sink into soft skin and Minjoo bites her lips when she laps at her pulse. “How will you make it up to me, baby? How?”

  
  


“Wait, Chae,” Minjoo brings a hand to the base of her neck, she closes her eyes and rests her head against Chaewon's, catching her breath.

When she leans back, Chaewon watches as her eyes flutter open. 

She fixes the girl's hair, fingers raking through the smooth locks, oblivious to Minjoo's gaze on her. Once all the strands are in place, Chaewon pulls away with a smile. “You're so beautiful.”

-

Before Minjoo can say anything back, there's a knock on the door—probably your cock block friends ruining the atmosphere of your night. You roll your eyes when the knocks are repeated, then the rings of the doorbell fill the room and Yena's voice is conveying some gibberish you can't be bothered to understand. 

You straighten your clothes out and wait as Minjoo does the same. She puts a hand over yours placed on the handle. She kisses you on the cheek and then, she kisses you on the corner of your mouth. 

Yena's gaze remains on Minjoo when she excuses herself out of your room, looking at you with a demand for explanations written all over her face. “What was she doing here?”

You don't answer. “Are you guys sleeping together again? Was that what you were doing?”

“No, it’s not…”

She scoffs, throwing a pillow at you while sinking into her bed. “At least wipe the lipstick off your face before you lie, Kim.”

“Why did you ask if you knew?” Your discontentment is obvious when you throw the pillow back.

“I dunno, just wanted to see if you’d tell the truth or not.”

Hyewon enters the room about a minute later. She asks the usual formalities and you give the usual answers. 

“So… did you guys talk?”

“Nah, they were too busy—”

“—Shut up, Choi.

“We did, I guess. She said she likes me.”

“Okay, then what did you say to that?”

You look at her, blankly. “Nothing…”

Hyewon raises her brows and collapses back onto your bed. You can’t perform any of that higher order thinking actions now, your lethargy got the best of you. “In four years, when you end up having an affair with her, Hyunjin’s gonna probably send some goons to ruin your life without you even knowing it. When you’re finally in shambles I want you to call me so I can tell you how I was right, how you’re being so idiotic and your life wouldn’t be a mess if you just admitted your feelings to her and told her you wanted to be with her.”

“Wow, it’s funny ‘cause he did the goon thing once already,” Yena states and you don’t have the energy to get her to keep her lips shut. “What?” She sits up.

You manage to catch bits and pieces of Yena’s explanation of what happened like, two weeks ago. “Does Minjoo know?” Hyewon asks you, you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

“We weren’t really on talking terms then,”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve done something—”

“I didn’t want you to do anything, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

You don’t answer. “You’re insane, Chaewon.”

Waving any more discussions away with your hand, you settle back into the soft mattress and pillows. You don’t really think of anything—any disorder, outcomes, consequences, whatever. You don’t think.

  
  


Soon enough, you fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the third law of thermodynamics what they did counts as talking ok


	8. perspectives

<3

  
  
  
  
  
  


You can't help the smile that blooms on your face when you see her approaching. The faint yellow light falls on her instead of moonlight, a cool breeze sways when she takes a seat next to you. “What was the emergency you were talking about,” she breathes, her voice laced with sleepiness and you feel the slightest guilt. “I wonder why they didn't take all this down yet.”

There's about ninety, maybe a hundred chairs in front of you. A bit too grandiose for a ceremony, but it's Hyewon's family, after all. Your sneakers rest on the sand, the two of you on a white platform meant for the bride and groom and all the other important people to stand on when the actual wedding took place. 

She doesn't humour your statement. You bring a hand to gesture at her face, “Is all of this necessary?” you say, referring to the baseball cap and black mask hiding her features from you. Minjoo shrugs her shoulders, her eyes are striking when they meet yours. “You never know who might be watching.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you're kind of a celebrity, Ms. Kim.”

The hand against your shoulder is weak and half hearted. You chuckle. 

Right when you think she's drifting off to sleep again, you stand, offering a hand for her to take as faint music played from your phone. “I didn't get to dance with you earlier.” A brow raises on her face and she chortles, you see the smile reach her eyes. 

“So you thought waking me up at three was the best thing to do? Do you even know how to dance?” 

“Of course. It's just moving your feet around in a square,”

“It's really not...”

A cheeky smile on your face. “Can't you teach me then?”

She assumes proper posture, guiding you to do the same. Minjoo leads, you follow. 

You kept stepping on her feet for the first few minutes, but you continued to ‘mess up’ because each time you make a _mistake,_ she calls you cute and ends up moving closer to you. 

“You're a fast learner,” she whispers, her words fade with the waves. A waxing moon, no tide; the sea is calm, level. “You're a good teacher.”

Time stays still for you. Or maybe not for you, maybe it's for her. “I'm pretty good, right?”

Minjoo nods, taking her cap off to put it on you backwards instead, fingers carefully press down its raised edges. “So… would you say I'm the best dancer of the night? Including everyone else you danced with, it's me, no?” Her eyes turn into crescents, moonlight glimmers on you. She lets the silence seep in for a moment. When she laughs, lightly, right before she speaks, you don't know what it is, this feeling rising in your chest. “Are you jealous?”

Something in her eyes, with this feeling you feel fear as you look into your eyes. How can she see through you, just like that? You bite back a smile. All these emotions, so conflicting, rushing through your bloodstream. 

“Yeah. Should I not be, baby?” 

She rolls her eyes. There's no way, no way she doesn't feel the same rush as you. Fuck, you don't know anymore.

You don't know when the music ended, when her arms came to hug you around your neck, when you started to sway side to side, her head comes to rest on your shoulder. “Your footwork can be a little better, his is impeccable, you know.” 

Her grip tightens, you exhale in amusement. Dancing to a soundless melody. Empty chairs, countless stars, the dark sea being your only witnesses, only ones to behold this unfurling of something you remain ignorant of. You hear waves gently fall on the shore until her voice is in your ears, her tone barely rises above a whisper. 

“I think I…” 

You turn to meet her gaze. She looks away. You wish you could see beyond it all. Expressions hiding behind a black mask of cowardice. “What is it, Min,”

“Sing me a song, what kind of dance has no music playing?”

You wish she would be transparent enough for you to see through. She wouldn't mind if you complied by singing a love song, would she? They're all you listen to. Nothing else would suit this atmosphere, anyway. 

You can feel her breathing slow. Her eyes close. She's in your arms. Your embrace. So close.

So close to being yours. 

“Don't you love when I come around,” you watch as the smile reaches her eyes first before they flutter open, you sing with a grin as she looks into your eyes. “Build you up then I take you down;” 

Minjoo lets her mask hang off one ear, a palm guides your face to hers. She kisses you. 

Nothing could ever match the tide of emotions crashing down on you, nothing else could match whatever this is when you feel her smile into the kiss, bumping her head against yours. Your mind is in a million places. Everywhere, everything filled with Kim Minjoo and her rosy cheeks when she pulls away. A giggle leaves her lips soon after yours. Again.

It feels like gold. Perfection.

You ignore the heavy weight on your heart and kiss her again.

  
  


-

  
  


You spot her under soft yellow lights, watching as moonlight spreads across her face in a smile. You rub your eyes, a cool breeze sways when you take a seat next to her. “What was the emergency you were talking about,” you breathe, feeling rather disoriented from waking from a peaceful slumber you deserved after a long day. The balls of your feet ache when you flex them in your shoes. You stare down at the sand. She doesn’t answer you. “I wonder why they didn’t take all this down yet.” 

Looking up, you recall what your father said. There’s about ninety seven seats, three removed because Do Jaehyun was exposed to be in a scandal just this morning—yesterday morning—and Mr. Kang didn’t want to be associated with it. They were supposed to be seated beside you and the Hwangs took their vacancy instead. Mrs. Hwang seemed to have warmed up a little, judging by the way she lightly touched your arm and reassured you that you’d have a grander ceremony than this.

Chaewon brings a hand to your face, snapping you out of your stupor. “Is all of this necessary?” she says, you press down the bill of your cap, securing it on your head.

You shrug, wondering what could’ve possibly put her in such a good mood. “You never know who might be watching.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re kind of a celebrity, Ms. Kim.”

The back of your hand is half hearted against her shoulder. She chuckles.

The sea breeze is faint on your skin and silence rolls in with the waves. You rest your temple against your knees, hugging them closer to your chest. 

She stands up after a while, startling you, offering a hand for you to take as music played in the background—from her phone, you suppose. “I didn’t get to dance with you earlier.” You raise a brow, was she really that much of a romantic? The muscles in your face stretch when a smile covers your lips. 

“So you thought waking me up at three was the best thing to do? Do you even know how to dance?”

“Of course, it’s just moving your feet around in a square,”

“It’s really not…”

A cheeky smile on her face. “Can’t you teach me then?”

You assume proper posture, chin tucked, back straight, guiding her to do the same. You lead, she follows.

She kept stepping on your feet for the first few minutes and with each mistake she colours red and apologizes: you find it cute each time and take a slightest step closer. After a while though, you think she’s doing it on purpose.

“You’re a fast learner,” you whisper once she starts meeting your steps in smooth, swift beats. Worried if you spoke any louder, this moment would shatter. “You’re a good teacher.”

Wondering how much longer she’ll take. When she’ll finally admit it to you. When she’ll stop being blatantly vague, when she'll leave anyone else behind for you. “I’m pretty good, right?”

You nod, taking your cap off and putting it on her instead, making sure you could see her face as clear as the night sky. “So… would you say I'm the best dancer of the night? Including everyone else you danced with, it's me, no?” The intonation of her words amuses you. You stare at her for a moment. With this feeling rising in your chest, you laugh, lightly. “Are you jealous?”

You couldn't see her anywhere when you were dancing with him, you couldn't see the envy for yourself, unfortunately. She bites back a smile. 

“Yeah. Should I not be, baby?”

You roll your eyes. Warmth spreads to your cheeks, you move in closer to her, she feels like the warmth that runs down your skin. Taking in her side profile, you're not sure if you can stop smiling even if you wanted to. “Your footwork can be a little better, his is impeccable, you know.” Hugging her tighter. She exhales in amusement.

Dancing to a soundless melody. Will the breeze bring her the words you want to hear? Will she soothe your burning heart with her calming voice? Will she finally put an end to your longing?

“I think I…”

No. You can't say it now. You can't be seven steps ahead of her, not when she hasn't even crossed the starting line. She turns to meet your gaze, overwhelming you with her eyes. You look away. Wishing she could read your mind, give you what you want. “What is it, Min,”

“Sing me a song, what kind of dance has no music playing?” You hope she can't hear the insecurity in your voice. She sings a love song, her voice is high, cutting through the air.

Your eyes close. She's in your arms. Your embrace. So close.

So close to being yours. 

“Don't you love when I come around,” you hear the grin as she sings, looking into her eyes, it's only for you, no one else. “Build you up then I take you down;”

You let half of your mask hang off one side of your face, you bring her closer to leave a lasting kiss on her lips. _This must be what love feels like._ You smile into the kiss, bumping your head against hers. A giggle leaves your lips soon after hers. You wonder how much longer she'll take to be yours. 

Your heart rises to your throat. It feels like gold, perfection. You quietly curse her inaction. For now, however, you decide to forget (forgive) it when she kisses you again.

  
  
  
  
  


— perspectives. —

  
  
  
  
  
  


Your fingers drum against your wristwatch and you suck in a breath. Why does Minjoo go around and about in this cramped ass car, anyway? It's stifling, the collar of your shirt feels like it's choking you. You click your tongue. 

She pays no heed. Instead, Minjoo continues to look out the window, something you can only guess to be melancholy all over her face. What for? 

“I told you they'd be next,” you state, she looks at you with disinterest. “Changbin can't keep anything to himself.” 

She hums. Your parents sent you and Minjoo to the engagement party because they're busy (because the Lees and the other Kangs are not that important) and it looks like your sister didn't have a good time. Well, you didn't either, but you're not grumbling over it, are you? She's got to learn when to adjust and when to not, you were just born into that kind of life. You can't do anything about it. It's your fate, written down for the two of you the day you were born. She has to learn. She needs to know when to not push too far.

You tug your ear. If you're gonna be preachy and all then you'd have to follow your own advice first. _It's a little late for that, dumbass._ While it may be too late for you, you could still try to stop her from defaming your family name any more than it will be when your little secret comes out. Oh yeah, you should probably tell Minjoo about it. It's the least you can do. You're pretty sure you have her little secret figured out: it's only right that she knows of yours too. You've gone far enough. You can't let her do the same.

If anything, her marriage to Hyunjin is the only saving grace you have now. Something to ease the blow of your wrongdoings. Your parents are upset with you already — because you didn't marry the Kwons' younger daughter, because you tried rebelling against them when you were in your teens, because you still didn't change after being sent to that horrible boarding school, because you don't want to be managing the company's relations in this country, because you're such a disappointment. You're a disappointment. You know, no matter, you've made peace with the fact that they'll never see you as anything more than that. But Minjoo?

Maybe if you weren't such a disappointment they wouldn't be so critical of her. Of every decision she makes. Trying to meddle in every aspect of her life. They can't have her turning out like you, after all. They need to have at least one child eating from the palms of their hands. When you tell them the news, they'd be reassured they have the marriage with the Hwangs to fall back on. 

Minjoo doesn't want to marry him, so it seems. 

What would happen then? 

What would the consequences be?

What does the future hold? 

A cautious glance at the seat in front of you. He'd keep his mouth shut, right? “So, that means you're gonna be next, doesn't it? You and Hyunjin. I heard mom and dad have it all planned out. What, when you finish college or something?”

The same disinterest in a sigh, the look on her face. She stays silent, ignoring your question. Still looking out the window. You pick at the skin on your lips, raising a brow. “What? I wouldn't be surprised if his parents try to get you engaged by the time you finish this year, you can be the engaged college couple in your final year. Wouldn't that be nice?”

“Shut up, Chani. Why don't you find someone to get married to first?” She doesn't spare you a glance. You huff a breath. “Whose marriage do you think is gonna be more beneficial, mine or yours? Who do you think is gonna bring in more attention, the wacky, dubious older Kim child or the pretty, well-mannered younger one? And who's gonna get us shares in the Hwangs' company, me or you? It's not me, that's for sure.”

Minjoo rolls her eyes. When she looks at you in annoyance, you don't waver. You look on for an answer. “What exactly is your problem?”

“Isn't he basically in love with you? What happened, do you not like him anymore? He seems like a decent guy, Minjoo. You can't let him go like this.”

She scoffs. “I don't know why you're under the impression that I even liked him in the first place. I never have, never will.”

“Why not? Because you don't want to be in an arranged marriage? That's why they gave you a year to date! Look at mom and dad—they didn't love each other at the start, now look at them—they're, uh, they're a power couple.” You look on. Wondering if she'll tell you the truth. Maybe your understanding of her little secret is wrong, maybe your eyes deceived you. “Yeah, how wonderful it is when two narcissists fall in love with each other.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you assure your tone is level. “You know that you're going to end up marrying him anyway. Why don't you warm up to him?”

You see her exasperate. _“Why,_ why do I _have_ to marry him?”

“You already know why,” Minjoo bites the inside of her cheek. Her voice flails with her words, eyebrows meeting in the middle of her forehead. 

“But I don't want to, Chani.”

“Why?

“Is it because of the girl at the wedding?”

You meet eyes with the driver in the rear view mirror. Staring him down until he looks away. Minjoo goes back to looking out the window, her leg bounces and she clears her throat. Of course she won't say anything, she's smart enough not to. Y'know, she should be thankful to you in a way. Imagine if your dad when searching for her instead of you, you can't even imagine what the consequences would be like. You sigh. “Is it?”

“I should get to choose who I want to marry. Why do I have to succumb to their wishes? It's my life, not theirs.”

God, you sink into the leather, an arm rests over your eyes. What can you say to that? “You have to compromise sometimes, Min. This is one of those times.”

“I've been doing that my whole life. How much more, is that not enough?”

“Do you think they'll let you get away with this? You'll be shunned, they—”

“—I know, I know it's not easy. But if I compromise this time, the rest of my life will be just that. I'll be stuck in a loveless marriage. The next compromise, be a faithful wife, give them grandkids. Why, why do I have to suck the joy out of my life to give it to them? It's not how I want to live. I can't live like that. I don't know how it'll turn out but I know I won't live like that. I can't.”

What can you do if she's already made her mind up?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Maybe your parents actually are busy. When you get home, only beige walls and silent furniture welcome you. She calls for you before you retire to your room. 

“Um… how did you… how did you find out about her?”

You breathe a laugh. “Don't pull something like that again. Why did you think dancing right in the middle of the whole decoration or whatever was a good idea?”

“...I won't.”

...

“Wait, Minjoo. I need to tell you something.”

  
  


“I never said why I came back home out of the blue like that. It's because—you know how I manage everything related to the company from Taiwan, right? Right. Basically… I,

“I got into a little trouble with another company over there. It was just a tiny scuffle at first. I didn't expect it to get out of hand but… I was trying to seal the deal with the typical loopholes, getting more than what I bargain for, baiting them—the usual. I didn't think their company was powerful anyway, definitely not to the standards of a multinational corporation. But I was wrong. My friend had—”

“What did you do?”

You run a hand through your hair. “They have connections underground, okay? It was either—”

“Okay, but what exactly did you do?”

“...I sold it. The company in Taiwan, all the accounts related to the branch, all of it. I really didn't have a choice, Minjoo. I don't think anything else would be a better option than what I did.”

“...But, how? All the members of the board, how could all of you agree on something as detrimental as that? That could _not_ have been the best decision you could take.”

“Well…

“It might've been something I did when I was not in the right mind. They put weird shit in my system, Min. I couldn't—”

“How can you be so fucking stupid? It's a fucking corporation, Chani, it's not something you give away when you're jacked up on whatever,

“Why wasn't there any news about it?”

“I told you they're mostly underground, anyone would find it suspicious if they just bought an MNC out of nowhere… ”

“They could just say that you're an idiot who sold his business while high on drugs, can't they?”

“I'm competent enough to not let that get out, I won't let the whole brand suffer because of what I did, I know that at least.”

Minjoo lets out a brisk breath. Something akin to empathy in her eyes. “I came back because they asked for shares in the actual, y'know, company. Based here. Either that or suffer from our reputation being shattered.”

“What are you going to do, how are you going to tell them?”

What does the future hold?

“I don't know.”

“I was hoping your engagement would make up for the losses incurred but…”

  
  


“...I don't know either.” Her voice is low. “How I don't want to marry him. Now, with this in the picture… I don't think I even have the chance to tell them anymore. They'll just do it against my will.”

“No, Min, don't say that. You're right: you should be able to marry whoever you want.”

The corners of her lips quirk upwards. “You were all for Hyunjin literally an hour ago.”

“I was just seeing how far your limits would go. How long you'd keep that girl a secret from me,” You mess with her hair and she shoves you away. 

“I just knew there was something with her when she kept glaring at me the day I came to your college.”

You tease her again when she laughs.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Daniel Caesar's Get You btw
> 
> And ummm I'm user zolidarnosc but more on that later


	9. fear (when the flowers bloom)

  
  
  
  
  
  


「after the storm, when the flowers bloom」

  
  
  
  


a note on f e a r .

  
  
  


it is each time she smiles

spring gives way to summer, she's like the sunrise

in those brown eyes, when you see your reflection

it is fear

that spreads through your veins; 

you disguise it with learned deception

you hide it away with your voice's inflection.

eighteen, you learnt that fear was made to stay

eighteen when you feared her rejection of you

when you feared the moment she said yes

when you were afraid of not being

good

enough for her, your first love that failed to last the lifetime you wanted it to.

your first love was what you expected first love to be

with ease, she sent your heart haywire, you would've done anything for her even if she didn't say please

the morning breeze

each day with her was spent in precious youth

and you were foolish enough to believe your youth was eternal

that the flames of your love would burn, eternal.

she questioned your fear

the fear of messing your budding relationship up

the fear of doing too much the fear of not doing enough

fear of her realizing you are not enough

you feared the day she would get sick of your fears

and twenty, she brought your fear to life.

she leaves you for being unreliable immature naive insecure uncertain ignorant unaware ununderstanding of all the ways she does not want to be with you anymore and she leaves you in the fear of being left heartbroken again and again and 

you decide to try and outgrow this fear

(to not let your fragile heart be left shattered again.)

when you first meet kim minjoo

you believe nothing about her is true from the slight

smile blooming as her eyes did a one over of you to the softness of her hand in yours that may have stayed a second too long for you to forget 

kim minjoo is just another pretty rich girl, you think

you think nothing of kim minjoo when you first meet.

but something

(everything) 

about her lingers in the back of your mind

(you think if it's anything, it's fear

yet it feels nothing like it)

something about her keeps you intrigued

(everything that followed after voided you of peace.)

before, during, and after you know it you are

head over heels for this girl that has you on your knees almost literally in every single way she'd like you to be 

now, it sets in

**_fear._ **

much sooner than you'd like it to.

you feared that your first love would hate you if you put an end to this dual nature: uncertain of your feelings for the first love that came by to try and put your surging feelings for kim minjoo to a stop

uncertain if what you and your first love were doing was dating or not

uncertain if this road she wants you to go down would be better than the first one

you feared she wouldn't understand that

your heart can only want what it wants as it does now.

  
  
  


“eunbi, i don't think we should see each other anymore.” you breathed, not sure if the tremble in your voice was of fear or your longing for kim minjoo

“why?” she sighs, you feel fatigue build on your shoulders.

-

  1. because i don't feel the same way i did on the verge of eighteen
  2. because i decided to start seeing you again to distract myself from kim minjoo and her illusions
  3. because i don't feel the same way as you do for me 
  4. because ~~i'm in love with~~ i like kim minjoo a lot and the thought that i can be with her but i am not makes me feel like i'm deteriorating from the inside
  5. because i finally have the closure i wanted those years ago and i do not feel the need to prove myself to you anymore i don't resent you for leaving me behind anymore but with that closure i just don't feel the feelings of the past for you anymore



-

“it won't work out, eunbi. i… there's someone else i really like, and i don't want to confuse her by continuing… whatever this was supposed to be.”

it ends

you hope she won't hate you for ending it out of the blue.

  
  
  


kim minjoo is more than just a fine summer day

all the world's a stage and you, with her, are mere players

you are so enamoured with the indents of her cheeks

you are so lost in your thoughts of her, you want her to keep calling your name in this sugar rush honey words dripping in your ears she is so

out of this world you are so

hopeless when you think of her she is 

divinity

she is more than the fear you feel

and that thought scares you more than anything else ever will.

you are afraid because

because when she looks at you it's just

just something you can't begin to explain

you are afraid she might realize she's way out of your league

you are afraid she'll realize that she can be with someone much easier than you, _are you really worth the risk?_

afraid of the consequences she'll face if she dates someone like you but

you are terrified of losing her

you want to be hers

you want her to be yours

beyond these questions, _what does the future hold?_

**_what does the future hold?_ **

**_what does the future hold?_ **

the urge to let her know is far greater

she has to know your unsaid words

feelings hiding behind your facade

she has to know you feel the same way

you have to tell her

you want to be with kim minjoo so bad, honestly 

it's ridiculous

you have to let her know, beyond 

f e a r .

(because each time she smiles, beyond fear

spring gives way to summer

those brown eyes

you know it's ~~love~~ spreading through your veins

her jasmine flowers filling up your chest

all your thoughts are ~~love words~~ you fail to tell her

you disguise, hide away, all these facades but you know

she sees through it anyway.)

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  
  
  


Staring at the ceiling. Wait, this is not your ceiling. You feel a slight headache set in the more you think. It's too early in the morning to see sunlight seep in, you take a look at blue windows and rub your eyes. “G'morning,” 

Oh. So it's Minjoo's ceiling. You're in Minjoo's room. You see her watching you with a small smile on her face when you turn to face her. You rub your eyes again. What did you do last night, by the way?

Yena forced you to go to this freshman's party, that she's a family friend and the responsibility of making her college years exciting rested in her hands or whatever—you stopped listening after the first minute and a half. How much did you drink though, you can't really remember anything past the moment you set foot in the house. Was Minjoo there too? Probably. Why else would you end up here? “Mornin'...” 

You sink your head into soft pillows, mumbling when she moves in closer and wraps her arms around your waist. You rest your chin on her head, feeling sleep settle in the room. 

Minjoo's room.

Minjoo's house.

Wait, you spent the night at her house? “Minjoo,” you jerk away, slightly panicked, much more awake than you were moments ago. “Your parents, what if they barge in?” 

She gives you a look in disinterest. “They're not home.”

“Your brother?”

“He's not either…”

“Oh.”

A bit tighter. She feels warm. Her hair smells nice. Minjoo hums into your neck, her breath is warm on your skin. 

Almost yours. All it would take is your words. You hold her closer, making sure she wouldn't pull away. You wouldn't be able to tell her if she looked at you the way she always does. You don't want to be left tongue tied for something like this. “Minjoo, I… 

I'm not seeing Eunbi anymore.”

Her laughter is ticklish. You flinch with a frown in confusion, wondering why she brings a hand to squish your face, calling you cute. 

“I know. You told me last night.”

Oh…

Oh no. It couldn’t be you spilled your feelings out in a drunken confession, right? That’s so unromantic. You wouldn’t do something like that… _would you?_ Minjoo deserves better than that. “Did I… say anything else?”

“No, we were too busy doing something else—do you not remember, Chae? You didn't even drink that much, did you?”

You stop the hand traveling up your chest by the wrist, suddenly hyper aware of her hands on you and furrow your brows. “H—Honestly, I don't know. All I remember is Hyewon and Yena getting into a fight over something and after that it's all, blank.”

Minjoo recalls the rest of the night though you really don't remember. Are you dreaming or something? Pinching your cheek, you nod when she says you decided to spend the night because there was no way you could drive home anyway. You don't jolt awake. Minjoo remains in front of you, now with a little confusion on her face. “What's wrong?” she asks, tilting her head and the corners of your lips tug upwards. “Nothing,

“It's not everyday that I wake up in a pretty girl's bed like this,” 

You run your thumb across her dimples when she smiles and god, just say it, you fucking idiot. 

“I hope it isn’t.”

“But—” your voice cracks and you wince. You can’t believe cowardice is so deeply instilled in you that even your voice gives away your fear. “But I wouldn’t mind if it’s um, if it’s your bed I’m waking up in…” Your words fall in intensity, almost fading out. You close your eyes. You don’t want to see the look on her face. (Fear. Irrational, because you think she might reject you even if she clearly feels the same.)

  
  


“I like you, Min, for the longest time, I’ve been so… you should know, I don’t want anyone else but you.” 

Your curiosity gets the best of you.

You wish it didn’t.

  
  


You wish it didn’t because you see a bittersweet look in her eyes. A bittersweet smile on her face. You hate it. This is not your sugar rush, not the honey in your ears, no flowers bloom in your lungs. Thorns rise up again. You can’t even decide what to feel. Everything crashes down at once. 

“Minjoo! Are you awake yet! I’m home!”

She ushers you to get dressed before there’s a bang on her door, an obnoxious voice from the other side. “I’m coming in, tell your girlfriend to hide under your bed or something, I dunno,”

“What do you want, Chani?” Minjoo opens the door a creak, stopping him from opening it fully. You hear amusement in his voice. “Did you really call her over for the night? _Oho,_ our princess is finally growing up...!” She slams the door shut, huffing when she saunters back to the bed. 

You won't look at her. She won't look at you. 

  
  


Fear.

If you are this afraid, what must she feel?

One, two. You suck in a deep breath. 

Beyond fear. Beyond this storm. Reaching out for flowers, looking through the clouds for the sun. She obliges when you bring her closer. “Be my princess too.” Minjoo chuckles, her hand grips onto yours tighter. It builds up in you. It's suffocating. You want it to let go. You want the fear to disappear this once. Again. She looks at you, unspoken words, this bittersweet emotion fueling your fear. “Everything will be alright,” and though you don't really believe yourself, you hope you sound convincing enough for her to trust you. “Don't worry, Min. It'll be alright.”

Silence; you wonder what she's thinking. 

“I don't want to be your princess,” she breathes, “I just want to be yours.”

Your heartbeat is in your ears. You smile, hoping to see the doubt—fear—uncertainty—whatever it is in her eyes dissipate. You don't know if she smiles back to console your fragile heart. Spring gives way to summer in the daybreak of this winter morning. You know it's love spreading through your veins. Budding in your chest. “Then be mine, Minjoo.

“Don't think about anything else, just… forget about everything else. Be my girlfriend.”

You know it's love blooming when she kisses you. “I'm yours;” Honey. “Chaewon, I…”

“I know. You know, right?”

She nods, sighing into your lips as you kiss her. It feels right. It's meant to be. An endless garden in the air. It's real. In your arms. Yours. You smile into the kiss. She rests her forehead on yours. Only sweetness in her eyes. 

  
  


the sun comes out, golden light seeps in. you spend the morning with your girlfriend in her bed, losing track of time, all her kisses, your love filling the room with your hearts pouring out all your unsaid words. nothing could ever surpass this feeling. nothing feels as complete. nothing good comes easy, you know. it's only after the storm that the flowers bloom.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shakespeare wishes he could write poems like me ik


	10. Liberation from the Cycle of Life and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This chapter is not relevant to the current storyline (It's a bonus chapter)  
> \- This chapter is set 6 years into the future from the current storyline  
> \- This chapter assumes events after chapter 6 never happened  
> \- All parts written in second person are from Chaewon's POV

  
  
  
  


“What did I do—do to… I don't deserve this! I don't…”

Chaeyeon's words douse the air with the strong scent of alcohol and she starts slurring at the end of her sentence, muttering curses under her breath. At Chaewon's request, the driver of the cab plays the city pop song playing on the radio louder. It was a feeble attempt to block out Chaeyeon's bemoans for her ex-girlfriend that left her for someone else — she complained that Chaeyeon wasn't affectionate enough with her, that she always seemed to hold back when it came to her, that she found someone who would treat her the way she wanted to be treated and that Chaeyeon is a filthy loner that needs to learn how to be more expressive. More “loving”. 

The fourth time this month. Once every weekend. Perhaps Chaeyeon is actually a filthy loner, because each time she goes out to drink, the only person by her side is Chaewon — Chaewon can't tell if she joins her out of kindness or if it's because she's a filthy loner herself. Regardless, Chaeyeon has an expensive taste and she pays every weekend they go out, so Chaewon is not complaining. She isn't going to turn down the prospect of free alcohol. 

“I thought it was—was truly my love, my true love, true love, left me for that _fuck-ing bitch,_ she has nothing I don't! I—I'm the only one who knows—I know—I knew her the best! Fucking, fuckin',”

The woman’s drawls aren’t drowned out by the upbeat chorus and her voice is heavy in Chaewon’s ears. This woman, she’s horrible at drinking yet she keeps doing this to herself. Her head plops down on her shoulder and she mumbles the rest of her troubles, expensive brandy filling Chaewon's lungs. She heaves a sigh as she meets eyes with the driver. The intoxication is wearing off and secondhand embarrassment seeps in. Darkness of the night, white noise from the car rings in her ears as they glide through the street, weaving through traffic. 

It must be true that Seoul comes alive only at night. Her ears are cold from the air conditioning but she cannot be bothered to exercise her vocal cords to ask the man to turn it down. Chaewon feels sleep settle in her mouth, eyes roll back until Chaeyeon starts sobbing, quietly, into the indifferent leather of her coat, holding back tears through hiccups. After a moment of exasperation, she comforts the woman with her right hand caressing brown locks, her palms are dry until she wipes her tears away. 

“What did I do to deserve this, Chae. I loved her so much—I love her so much… why did she cheat on me..? Why…”

Soon enough, they arrive at Chaeyeon's apartment. With difficulty, she trudges to the elevator as the woman's weight is on her side, desperately clinging to her shoulder that starts to ache from the pressure on it. Floor ten, 108. Their footsteps drag against the carpet floor. The fluorescent lights in the hallway give Chaewon a headache, why do these luxury apartments have to be illuminated every single hour of the day? 

She stuffs her hands into her left pocket for the keys. Before she can kick the door open, Chaeyeon wraps her arms around her bony frame and cries again into the collar of Chaewon's dress shirt. Due to the lack of conscious balance, Chaeyeon almost throws the two forward into her room but Chaewon pulls back with her hands firmly holding onto the door frame, keeping them upright. Fists ball at the ends of her shirt, crumpling the fine fabric and Chaewon sighs. _Great._ Now she has to iron it again. Her sobs grow in intensity and the neat tuck of her shirt within her skirt is ruined. 

She makes a note to herself to not get swayed by the proposal of free alcohol on a weekday evening again. It's late enough. What was she even thinking, drinking on a Wednesday night? God, this woman needs to get a grip. “Why does this keep happening to me, _Chae?_ Why me, _why!!”_

Chaewon heaves as she drags her to the sofa. She cries with her hands covering her face. Her knees on the soft carpet, she offers consolation with light pats on her shoulder. It takes five minutes for Chaeyeon to come to a semblance of her senses. Chaewon stays silent, unwilling to speak. The feeling is nice, the feeling of static in her chest from not speaking for a while. In the silence, the woman seems to come to her senses as she wipes her face dry with the back of her hand. She closes her eyes and exhales into the cold air of her apartment. 

_Why does this keep happening to you? It seems like you don't know._

Chaeyeon falls asleep. 3: 47 a.m. Their boss would kill them if they came in late tomorrow—today, they were going to discuss the quarterly report for the Zhuoshui project with an on-site manager, and their boss specifically mentioned for their team to be there, sharp eight a.m. Why does Chaeyeon keep doing this to herself? Smeared mascara, eyes swollen, hair in a mess, dried up tears. After draping a blanket over her and placing her phone right next to her ear so she wakes up when she calls her to remind her of their meeting in a few hours, Chaewon hails a taxi home. It'll be four thirty, maybe four forty by the time she gets home. 

Chaeyeon says her true love broke her heart that easily. Without second thought, ending whatever they had, abrupt in every way possible. _Your past relationship decides how your next one will end._ Isn't that what Chaeyeon tells her? Did Chaeyeon cheat on someone before for her to get cheated on now? No, really, if all she says is the truth, if it was true love, why does she suffer this way, for days, weeks, maybe even months to come?

Who knows, what she must've done to deserve this.

Who knows, what she must do to undeserve it. 

Chaewon can’t tell.

  
  


##  Liberation from the Cycle of Life and Death

##  _Moksham_

  
  
  
  


4:36 a.m. 

The elevator in the apartment is broken. 

It can only go up three floors instead of its total of four, and Chaewon has to climb two extra flights of stairs every night after she gets off work. With a slow pace, stumbling once in a while—either from the weight of the day or the drunkenness clinging onto her.

Cold granite is under her feet instead of the expensive carpet of Chaeyeon's apartment, she hums a song down the dark hallway with heels in one hand and her bag in the other. Chaewon looks up to the ceiling. She rubs her hand on the back of her neck, tense muscles under her fingers, and sighs into the quietude. Her collar is uneven and she only notices when she pats around for her keys right in front of the door. 

It's cold these days. The air-conditioning in the office is too strong for her liking and paired with the wind blowing in her ears each morning she leaves for work and each night that she's not drinking with Chaeyeon in the city bus, getting a cold was unavoidable. Maybe her nose is blocked, she can't really tell. Chills down her spine. 

“Ugh,” 

The bitter taste of lemon juice spreads in her mouth. She closes her eyes to take in the sourness, her grip on the bottle in her hand tightens before she finishes the rest of it in one go. Three bottles are left. She'd have to tell her mother to send some more.

Chaewon leaves her bag in the kitchen and she would settle there for the night if it wasn't for the lights she spots turning on in the bedroom. 

“Yiren? Is that you?”

Hoarse. It's been hours since she last spoke, so the words are out of place in her mouth. The woman smiles at her sight. She must've been sleeping. “When did you get here?” 

Instead of an answer, Chaewon has warm arms wrapped around her, a face digging into her neck. She can hear the frown in her voice. The pout on her face. “Were you out drinking? You reek of alcohol…”

A breath of laughter leaves her lips. She puts distance between them to change out of her work clothes—, seems like her plan of staying up the entire night would have to be forsaken. “My friend's going through a rough patch. I couldn't refuse.” 

After 21 hours of being awake, Chaewon settles back into bed, the pillows and sheets neatly arranged unlike how she left them in the morning. She hums. The meeting, the three hours she has to wake up in—they’re forgotten for the time being. Because now she has a warm embrace to settle into as well. 

“Wasn't your flight scheduled for tomorrow, you should've told me you're coming. I would’ve come to pick you up,” Yiren cups her face and presses a kiss on her lips, urging a smile.

“Did you have a hard day?”

“No, not really. It was alright. Tomorrow's gonna be tough though.”

She keeps her explanation of the project brief. It gets harder to keep the words going. Eyelids droop down, somewhere between the struggle to stay awake or to surrender to sleep. “I told you I was coming, you probably didn't see any of my texts. I tried calling but you didn't answer.”

“Oh, really?

“I didn't check my phone that much tonight.”

“Yeah, I figured;

“I missed my girlfriend _so~_ much that I just had to see her one day earlier.”

Chaewon hums. Notifications pop up one by one. Yiren turns to sink back into her chest further. 

“Hm?”

Five messages and two missed calls from _My honey._

A surprising name at the top. Eleven messages, but she hasn't contacted her in years. That's weird.

“Baby, if your side chicks are so pretty how am I supposed to stand a chance,”

She mumbles a reassurance of her love in response. “No, I know her from college… we were friends—but I haven't spoken to her much since then, you might know her? She's pretty famous…”

“Let me take a look.”

Oh, isn't this that actor's sister? Kang… Taemin? Taeran?

Taeran.

Wow, you went to college with _her?_ Babe, are you secretly super rich or something? 

I just studied hard to get into an elite college.

“Seems like she wants to meet up with you for something.”

Yeah. It seems like she does. Chaewon can't be bothered to read the messages now, so she turns the phone off and holds Yiren closer. 

Two and a half hours of sleep will have to do for tonight. 

  
  
  
  


——*——

  
  
  
  


Society exists in four stages of justice and righteousness. Like the four limbs of a human. The four legs of a chair. Each stage worsens with time. Each limb is ripped away until the cycle starts again. Now, society stands on one sole leg. The world has succumbed to its most animalistic state. There is no more genuineness, there is no more tolerance, understanding, or collectivism. People deviate from the natural rules of society. People fail to uphold the duty to be carried out in this lifetime. Every soul suffers in this stage; every soul is tortured until salvation comes to save them. Salvation that will not come in this lifetime. 

The world is unfair. Chaewon knows the world is unfair for reasons she will not—can not understand. The world is unbalanced. 

She awakes in the morning in a haze, oversleeping for about half an hour and having to forego washing her hair to reach work on time. Right before she boards the bus to her office, her tone is harsh as she tells Chaeyeon to wake up and rush to work as quickly as she can. It is only then she notices the wind passing through the windows of the bus as if to keep her drooping eyes open by prickling at tears. The bus is packed with suitcases, backpacks and suited bodies, lifeless faces. A woman shoves her shoulder as she boards the bus. Chaewon can only curse under her breath. 

The world is unfair because her office is in the richer part of Seoul. The world is unfair because she can see all these luxury cars pass by as she withers away with 20 people in the winter morning. She struggles in a class struggle. A power struggle. It builds on her shoulders. She sways with the inertia, unable to fight it. 

Chaewon is 28 years old. She got this job 3 years ago because it offered better pay than the one before it. This job pays for the demanding expenses of Seoul, it pays for her occasional expensive taste that comes to light when she wants to spoil herself. 

She's something more than a project manager, so her cubicle and Chaeyeon's are at the front as soon as they reach their floor — opposite to each other, they're the largest on the floor. The floor above is for their bosses. Somehow, the gap between the two floors is larger than it feels. 

At 8:10, she watches the Rolex on Mr. Wang's wrist shimmer down his wrist as he tells off Chaeyeon for being late when he specifically told them not to be. He points with the keys of his luxury car at the woman as he lectures her: having come only five minutes before. His gelled hair is blinding. Chaeyeon makes a snide remark about it when she takes a seat next to her. Her eyes are swollen, her voice is grating. Chaewon sighs.

“What’s so important about this meeting anyway?”

“They’re making this the top priority for now. Didn’t you guys hear? Apparently, we’re going to have the _‘big guns’_ of the company supervise our work.”

She looks at Juyeon in silence. The man takes it as a cue to continue, “This is _the_ most important thing for the company at the moment. I wouldn’t be surprised if the CEO walked in through those doors right now.”

Great. Another pair of shoes to lick. Another asshole to suck up to. Juyeon speaks with such grandeur about the ‘big guns’ that she’d rather spend the rest of this project as a team member and not the leader: since she’ll have to be the one doing the most licking, the most sucking up. 

“It’s _the_ most important thing and yet they don’t bother to be on time.” Chaeyeon leans into her chair. The dark circles under her eyes are concerning.

True to Juyeon’s words, their project is being prioritized over the others because it’s vital for the growth of the company or whatever bullshit Mr. Wang spouts to impress his bosses — a few significant people in the company will monitor our work for the next quarter to make sure everything goes smoothly. So far, there haven’t been any problems, thanks to the managers Kim Chaewon and Lee Chaeyeon following my supervision to a T. Ho Jinwook and Im Jimin’s performance could be a little better though. Please look into it, Ms. Kim...

And so, the meeting goes on for another hour. 

At times, Chaeyeon fumbles with her words and blinks blankly when attention is brought to her. Chaewon makes a mental note to never, _ever_ let the woman go drinking on a weekday again. Luckily, she saved the situation by filling in for her half sentences. Sometimes, she doesn’t understand why Chaeyeon works in a company like this. She seems to be more well-off than she lets on. 

She has an expensive apartment. She brings an expensive car to work. Chaewon is too ashamed to bring her car to work because a seven-year-old Hyundai Elantra doesn’t fit in with the big brands her coworkers boast. Chaeyeon’s family must own a company of their own, so why does she struggle like this? Why on earth would she want to go down this path? It’s not worth it. What kind of rich person wants to work an eleven hour job. She must’ve been kicked out of her house to be doing this.

  
  
  


The day is uneventful.

“Damn, they should really turn down the AC in there… it’s November, for fuck’s sake…” 

Condensation from the woman’s breath enters the air. Evening hours are the worst. It gets colder as soon as the sun sets at five. She didn’t even bring her coat today. 

Chaewon isn’t one to drink coffee but today just begs for it. The barista looks at them with distaste when Chaeyeon orders her third cup.

Chaeyeon offered to give her a lift home. She declined, but grabbing a cup of coffee wouldn’t be so bad. The shop is right outside their office, anyway. Chaeyeon feels the need to repay her somehow, anyway.

“Hey, you wanna go drinking again..? There’s this new bar in my neighbourhood. I heard it’s nice.”

God. “Chaeyeon, you need to stop drinking so much. You almost fucked up the meeting today ‘cause of that.”

“I was just asking, geez.”

She gives her a look in disgust. “You need to get a grip, okay? You’re ruining your life for a girl that doesn’t even deserve you. I don’t know when you’ll realize that. Just move on already.”

“Hm.”

No one likes the truth. The bitter tone in her voice and Chaeyeon’s is evident. She can’t help it. The truth is bitter and unpleasant, and no one likes listening to what’s good for them. She notices the frown on Chaeyeon’s face and sighs. “Promise me you won’t go drinking today.”

A look of suspicion. Chaewon doesn’t waver, because she knows how to deal with people like this—people too disillusioned from reality because they’re intoxicated with thinking of the past, worrying about the future. She holds the gaze. Stoic eyes win over doubtful ones. “I promise.”

She warns the woman that she’ll even go to her apartment to check if she was drinking or not. Chaeyeon waves the words away, saying she can at least control her impulses for a night, and drives off into the city traffic. 

The bus takes forever to come. Her thoughts are only of annoyance from the waiting and the fact that she can _feel_ the cold underneath her skin. As if it was reaching her organs. 

That's why she pays no heed to the car that stops unusually in front of the bus stop. 

She pays no heed to the footsteps approaching. A warm hand grasps her elbow. 

Chaewon flinches in surprise.

A familiar face. 

More mature than what she remembers. 

Her hair is a dull blonde instead of the brunette she was used to—it is a familiar face, yet Chaewon takes a moment to recollect. 

“Long time no see, Chae.”

Before she can return any pleasantries, a bystander exasperates displeasure with how her car blocks the bus’ way, so Chaewon ends up getting a ride home, her rejection of Chaeyeon’s offer going in vain. 

“...Yeah, long time no see.”

The universe willed for them to meet. It’s something like that, isn’t it? A face she hasn’t seen in years suddenly noticed her as she waited for the bus home. It’s too much of a coincidence. It’s too good to be true. “You didn’t answer my texts…”

Five years later, Kang Hyewon is still the composed person Chaewon remembered her to be. Her eyes don’t leave the road, the slight smile doesn’t leave her face. “Oh, I—, sorry, I had a long day.”

“A long day and you can’t spare your old friend two minutes,”

“No, really—I—, this project I’m working on is taking up all my time, I didn’t mean to—”

Hyewon is snickering. Right, the same playful glint in her eyes, She scoffs. “Fuck you.”

“There’s the Kim Chaewon I know.”

It takes from Gangnam to half the way to her house for them to catch up. Hyewon is an indie filmmaker based in various parts of Asia. She’s been travelling a _lot_ the past few years for long-term and short-term projects and finally has the time to stay in the country for a while. _There’s so much out there, Chaewon._ The world is full of amazing things. There’s so much you can learn. Isn’t that amazing?

It may be, but Chaewon doesn’t care. Of course Hyewon looks at the world through rose tinted lenses. It’s what artsy people like her do—to them, the world is an idea that is beyond themselves, the world is abstract and beyond what the eyes can see. 

Chaewon is not that kind of person. The world is the people around you. The situations you put yourself in, and you. That’s all the world is. _Yeah, it is amazing._

She talks about her job with little distaste. The pay is pretty good, her coworkers are pretty nice and she’s in a pretty comfortable position in her life. 

“Why’d you contact me completely out of the blue, though?”

“Actually, I’m planning a little get together. I want you to be part of it.”

She checks her phone to read the texts.

“...Why... would you want to do that?”

“Don’t you think it’ll be fun? I want to see how everyone’s doing! I’ve been so caught up with my job I lost contact with so many people. I’m pretty sure it’s like that for everyone else too. I mean, when’s the last time you talked to someone from college?”

“Yeah, okay, but… don’t they hold these reunion things ten years after college is done? Or when everyone’s old and wants to relive some nostalgia, something? Why so soon, it’s only been what—,”

 _“Five years?_ Five years now is ten years back then, Chae. Things keep changing in the blink of an eye. You’d be surprised if you knew what our classmates are up to now.”

“Oh? Why? What are they up to?”

“I don’t know. But aren’t you curious now?”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. 

“Besides, I have some exciting news that I wanted to share—”

“With your college classmates?”

“—No, with my friends. I just think a reunion would be nice. Five years is enough to want to reignite that nostalgia. No?”

Yes…?

Does she really miss her college days? 

“You want to invite _everyone?”_

“Yeah,”

“Even Yuri and Yena…?”

Hyewon chuckles when she looks at her for a brief moment. “I’m over that, I don’t care anymore.”

Does she miss her college days? She’s never really thought about it. Does anyone miss college in the first place? Life isn’t so kind as to give anyone the time to dwell on the past. And even if one has the time, dwelling on the past is pointless. Hyewon seems to share her belief. “But I will invite _everyone,_ Chae.”

Does she miss everyone?

Who knows.

Chaewon stays silent. It would be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother her and she isn’t a good liar so she keeps silent. Ten minutes left to reach her apartment. The woman sighs. 

“She’s happy now, Chaewon. I’m pretty sure she put all of that in the past.”

“...C’mon, you’ve known her since the dawn of time. You should know her better than anyone else. No way that she—she probably hates my guts.” 

Another silence fills the car. 

“Right? I’m right, right? What, did she say she wouldn’t come to the reunion if I was there?”

And again. “Oh.”

“It’s not like that, she’s just—”

“No, no—she’s right. I can understand why she’d feel that way. I was so…”

Stubborn. Or rather, stupid. “She has the rights to hate me. I’d do the same thing, anyway.”

“She doesn’t hate you. It’s more like, she’s bitter about the whole thing.”

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Kang…

“She shouldn’t have to miss out on your great news because of me.”

Hyewon tells Chaewon that she’ll convince her somehow. They reach her apartment complex, cold air strikes her the moment she steps outside. _Tell her that I won’t be there, you can just tell me your news over dinner or something. I don’t think it’s right that I’m there instead of her. It was my fault, anyway._ She sends the text as she climbs the stairs to her apartment. In return, she gets an emoticon fuming in anger. Its cute appearance defeats the purpose of showing anger, doesn’t it? Then, an emoticon frowning at her.

_You really are a dumbass, Kim Chaewon._

_An idiot who keeps running away._

Bitter lemon. 

She doesn’t wince, because she knows it’s the truth, anyway.

  
  


-

  
  


Winter mornings aren’t pleasant.

Her socks are never on her feet the moment she wakes up, so her toes feel frozen and she has to sit up and attempt to thaw them by rubbing her hands together and holding her feet. The cold of the morning is different. It’s intrusive. It wraps itself around her body before she can even realize it. Chaewon starts winter mornings holding her feet.

Her mouth feels like it’s freezing when she brushes. The water that hits her face and chest is cold before hot water pours down. Her hands are rough and her lips are chapped when she kisses Yiren. The woman frowns, but Chaewon can’t do anything to help it. She keeps forgetting to buy chapstick and moisturizers. 

“Wow, I didn’t know the city is this big.”

“Yeah? It is pretty big, there are some places I haven’t even been to.”

“So where do you want to go?”

“I should be asking you that, honey.”

“Well, to be honest…”

Today is a day reserved for a date with her girlfriend. Chaewon took a leave on Friday so she could have two days with her girlfriend all to herself. It was a long-distance relationship, after all. They'd have to spend the time they could get together wisely. She has to keep this delicate balance. Yiren’s hand is on her padded coat when she tries taking her car keys out. The beanie on her head fails to hide red ears, a red nose. The sun isn’t out, so it’s colder than usual. 

“...I want to go to the Han river.”

She chuckles. “We’ve been there already.”

“Yeah, but that was before we were official… I heard it’s a hotspot for couples. I wanna go on a cute date with you, just like a couple who’s been there a million times before.”

A couple who’s been there a million times before would want to ride the bus together, so, at a leisurely 10 o’clock, they board an intercity bus as they sit with their hands intertwined.

How long has it been since they started dating again? 

Chaewon first met Yiren in conference room number 2, when the company's branch in Taiwan sent a few employees to her branch so they'd have a few onsite workers for the Imjin project. It wasn't love at first sight, but one thing she knew for sure is that this woman was as close to her ideal type as anyone could be. It was a little meet-cute—there's no harm in flirting with a pretty girl if she starts it—, or at least that's what Chaewon thinks. That was about a year ago. They've been dating for about a year, more or less. 

4 months together in Seoul until Yiren quit because got a better job back home and 8 months of being away from each other but keeping it going, somehow. Sometimes she flies over for half a week or Yiren visits her, like this time. She's at the age where love isn't all that important for her relationships to stay strong—it’s _compatibility,_ compatibility to see if you could spend the rest of your life with this person. 

They go pretty well together. 

Her parents constantly remind her that she's not getting any younger and that she'd better settle down soon. Find a nice girl, get married and give us grandkids already. You're thirty. How hard is it to find someone that matches your taste?

It is pretty hard, but what would they know? They just got arranged to be married and adjusted their lives around each other. Chaewon is not going to marry someone just for the sake of marriage, no. She’s going to marry a decent girl that she feels comfortable with. Someone who puts her at peace. They'll lead a comfortable life, and her mind will be at ease. 

Will that be Yiren?

She doesn't know. Maybe, maybe not. Only time can tell. They find warmth in each other's hands, walking down a sidewalk. Yiren hums in contentment. 

“Have you been here often?”

No, not really. Why not? It seems like a nice place, though. I don't know, I never had a reason to come here. Really?

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s nothing.” She smiles to herself and Chaewon laughs her confusion away. 

Easy. Their conversation flows like a gentle stream, they talk about everything in the world for a couple of hours. The woman suggests they go biking but neither of them knows how to ride a bike. Countless couples on the grass having a cute little picnic and damn. Maybe she should’ve planned this date out a little. 

They stop by a convenience store when Yiren exclaims how she’s only seen them in dramas and that she wants to see if the ramen sold here really is that spicy so Chaewon complies. “Have you talked to your friend yet?”

“Who?”

“You know, the one that wanted to meet up with you. The famous one?”

“Oh,

“Yeah, we talked.” Staring at each other for a beat of silence. “So? What’d she say?”

“She was—She’s planning a reunion and she wanted me to be there so…”

“A college reunion? Isn’t it kind of soon for that?”

“That’s what I said. But apparently, she has some big news that she wants to share with everyone, whatever, so… yeah.”

“When is it?”

“It’s next week, I think? You’ll be gone by then…” She frowns and reaches out for her girlfriend’s hand across the table. 

“Do you plan on going?”

“Hm, well, not really.” 

Yiren raises a brow. 

“You seem pretty close, though.”

“Yeah… I just, I don’t want to—there are some people I don’t want to see. I don’t really have a lot of good memories from college.”

“You must’ve had a few messy break-ups in college, then. I wouldn’t think that you were a player, baby.”

She laughs at the words. “I wasn’t… but I guess I did break more hearts than I’d want to.”

“Tell me.” 

“About what?”

“About the girls you dated in college.”

What? Chaewon looks at the woman with absurdity written across her face. “Why?”

I just want to know what college Kim Chaewon was like. 

...You know that I love you, right?

Yiren smiles. I know, I love you too. Now tell me.

(Chaewon is a very passive person.)

Well, first there was this girl that I used to date in high school—she contacted me like, right before second year started? I didn’t want to get back together at first ‘cause—, she broke my heart at first, being my first love and all… we dated for a while again. We didn't last very long though. It... just wasn't the same; Then… I kinda went, uh, rogue? for a couple months. I wasn’t ready for another relationship—just ended up in one night stands turned into like two week relationships. That went on for a while… Ah, and in fourth year—I wasn't even that interested in dating anymore—I had to concentrate on my grades so, yeah. There was this sophomore who confessed to me, though. She was really persistent, we dated for a few months after college… that’s about it…

It’s not a lie nor is it hiding the truth. Yiren asked for the girls she _dated_ in college, nothing else.

Her cheeks get colder. The sun is starting to set, blue hues give way to pink and purple. She kisses the side of Yiren’s head when the woman hums in response. “Now I’m only yours.”

Chaewon feels the muscles in her calves start to ache as they walk in the same circle for the third time. Hands are clammy. The sun is setting so fast. Dark gray fills her vision. She nods when her girlfriend finishes telling her an anecdote from school, her high laughter rings in the air. 

“I think you should go to the reunion, Chae.”

It’s not a frown, but the ends of her lips go down as if to contemplate the suggestion. “I bet it’ll be more fun than you think. Looking back on old memories, it feels nice. I’m sure you must’ve had _some_ good days there, right? And if you had bad blood with someone, you can see how worse they’re doing than you,” Yiren quirks a brow at the end of her sentence. Grinning when Chaewon exhales in amusement. “I’ll think about it.”

So, the sun sets. The evening only gets colder. Her nose is blocked, her teeth chatter as they ride the bus back to her apartment. The sight of Yiren’s luggage being half packed and half all over the place makes her feel sad for a while. She’s going to leave on Sunday, then her bed will be all empty again. Holding her feet all alone in bed. And to make it worse, it’s winter. 

Cold. 

The cold makes her feel lonely and sad. She’ll have a draining void in her chest for the next three and a half months until spring comes. 

Three and a half months until spring blooms in her chest again.

  
  
  
  
  


** ∗∗∗ **

  
  
  
  
  


_Protect the virtue of your life—the virtue of the world and those around you, and that virtue will in turn protect you._

Humanity is at the worst point of its moral existence. As a whole. As a result of the actions of terrible individuals. The problem of immorality is that it diffuses into each sect of persons once it takes root. Sometimes, it is born from the filthy slums of poor lives led with humility. Sometimes, it is from ignoble golden faces filled with pride for their life. Immorality doesn't differ between the rich and poor. Even _the rich_ are immoral, unethical, terrible individuals and such a fact rouses angst—if those who do such atrocious deeds still prosper, what is the point of living a virtuous life? Terrible people can be terribly rich, so why does one have to put in the effort to be good? 

‘You reap what you sow’. 

‘Everything that comes around goes back around’. 

Because when you do good, that good will come back to you, someway, somehow. Because the world is just in its actions as it is, because karma exists. Karma exists to make sure everything stays in the cycle of rewarding those who do good, punishing those who do bad. If not in this life, then the next. So, one who suffers despite being nothing but good to others should not fret. One who feels injustice is being done because rich bastards get to have the time of their life, even if they’ve done nothing to deserve it, shouldn’t worry. Karma carries forward from one life to another, as long as there are redeaths and rebirths. 

_Is Kim Chaewon a good person?_

You don’t know. Are you a good person?

You are not a bad person. But, you _are_ cynical, leading to your indifference to the world instead of embracing it.

Kim Chaewon is neither bad nor good. You’re just indifferent.

Indifference. 

It’s enough if you and the people around you are happy. You won’t wish for anything more than that. 

A week passes after Yiren leaves and you grow more and more anxious as Sunday approaches.

You can’t say that you’re vain—maybe saying you care a lot about your self-image would be adequate. You feel good when you look good and Hyewon said it would be a casual event anyway, so you spend about an hour thinking of what would look best for a casual, laidback, _yes, I am doing better than you_ look. You may be indifferent to the world but you can’t help the irritation that creeps up your throat when you think of the wealthier sections of society. 

You need to send them a message; that you’re cool, you’re not from a rich family and yet you’re doing amazing for yourself. When else would you get an opportunity like this?

You’re going to the reunion after deciding to suck it up and throwing your cowardice away for once. Yeah, Yiren was right. You deserve a night of drowning in nostalgia. It would be fine as long as your friends were there, who cares about anyone else? 

(You, apparently. You can’t tell why you feel so restless. Your breath feels shorter and shorter as time passes. 

Why, your chest heaves as you pick at your fingers.) 

The bar Hyewon’s holding the gig at was right in your neighbourhood, so you don’t bother taking your car. It was a fifteen minute walk from your apartment at most. In case you get wasted and can’t find your way home or something, you can just call a cab. 

Right. So.

It’s 8 p.m., Sunday, one November evening. You’re going to the reunion Hyewon planned; the woman was ecstatic when you told her you’d be coming yesterday. Yes, you’re going to swallow your guilt and power forward. Yes, you are not anxious. The door locks with a click; you walk down all eight flights of stairs out of impulse.

Yes, you are not afraid. Fine dust from your blue hoodie and white slacks is dusted off right before you exit the complex. With every step, you feel your guilt fade away, each step is lighter than the one before.

But no.

That’s not true. 

Your thoughts intensify with each step taken. 

Guilt, anxiety, fear. 

What if _she’s_ there? Then what?

What are you going to do when you see her?

What will you say? What _can_ you say? Will she let you say anything at all?

These thoughts spring up one by one, revealing themselves after days—maybe months, maybe years—of ignoring them. You shouldn’t have avoided reading articles about her that were released about four times each year. You shouldn’t have avoided going through the press pictures of her at a charity event, or an inauguration or _visual couple stuns everyone with their appearance at Lee Changbin’s wedding_ or whatever. Maybe these emotions wouldn’t be so intense, then. The guilt, anxiety, the fear. If you hadn’t avoided her existence like the plague all these years, then you wouldn’t be feeling this way now.

What if she completely disregards your existence? She’ll look through you, see past you like you were transparent. Fragile glass. She’ll pretend like you don’t exist. What if she does that? Could you handle something like that? Your fragile heart, can it handle that?

What do you even want from her?

The street is noisy. Noisy, no, each footstep feels heavier. 

Fifteen minutes pass by with half a mind on the road and half a mind preoccupied with your mind. The chills in your ears force you to be more present.

It isn’t as classy as you expected it to be. Hyewon wouldn’t settle for a shabby place either, so it’s somewhere between those two that you blend in perfectly with the surroundings. You’re a little late. Kim Sohee shrieks in glee when you slide in beside her and Kim Suyoon is pulling you in for a side hug before you can take it all in. 

Five years, six years since you’ve seen these faces. Everyone feels different. The drink Seokyung offers goes down swiftly, calming the overwhelming atmosphere. You catch up for a while, soothing yourself gently into the room, pleasantries, and a few drinks as they tell you about their lives.

“Chaewon!”

“Yena—!” The woman—body slams, for the lack of a better word—right into you when she spots you at the counter. Stumbling back a little, you find balance by holding onto a stool behind you. God, she’s probably drunk already. Once a lightweight, always a lightweight, you suppose. You laugh when she pulls back to get a look at your face, her hands cupping the cold skin. “Kim Chaewon! Guys, it’s Kim Chaewon!”

A few faces turn and raise their glasses at you in recognition. You nod in response. It’s heating up. “You look the same, Kim! Kim—You literally look the same, how is that possible? I’m starting to see wrinkles on my forehead already!”

“What the—, no, I—”

“—Hey, you should see Im Kyungwoo—now that’s a glow up if not anything else—I couldn’t even—!”

She’s still so talkative. You down another glass of whatever and the end of her sentence drowns out when you slam the glass on the counter. Yena grins at you like a fool. She wraps an arm around your shoulder, snickering to herself as if the whole thing was ridiculous. Well, it is ridiculous. You seeing your _best friend_ after five years. You join in on the laughter. She does a shot and roars, her face blushes a deeper pink. 

“Hye was super bummed that you weren’t comin’, y’know? But you’re here! Have ya seen her? Kim, she’s getting married! I thought you’d get married first outta the three of us, y’know? Can you imagine? Kang Hyewon is getting married!!”

“Wow, really?”

“Yup! And her fiancee is super pretty too! I bet she’s having the time of her life now.”

“That’s amazing,”

So, apparently, Yena is an accountant. The job seems mundane in comparison to her vibrant personality, but it’s something she’s good at and she gets lots of money, so she quite likes her job. The stereotype that accountants are boring is not true, by the way. She says her office is more rampant than you’d think. What can you say about your job except for the usual things? You say the usual things but you’re not sure if Yena is listening.

“So… how are things going with Yuri?”

The woman drawls a smile, tracing the top of the glass with her finger in circles. “Heh, can you believe Hye and I fought over a girl? That’s so stupid, right?

“We’re on a break, kinda…”

“...Oh.”

_“...Ugh,_ you look pathetic—get that sad look off your face—! C’mon, let’s go find Hyewon or whatever.”

Hyewon is nowhere to be seen, so you do whatever: Yena drags you around as she bounces from person to person to find out what they're up to and now you know that Lee Minho is an aspiring music producer trying to distance himself from the family business, Yoo Minji has her own startup business or something and Han Jisung——you really don’t give a fuck, to be honest. 

Most of these people are rich and are doing one of two things: either taking responsibility for their family business or rebelling against their family and pursuing other interests, which they can do without breaking a sweat because parents will do anything for their spoiled brats even after thirty years of spoon-feeding. 

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Are you single? Lotsa people were asking for you, y’know. I didn’t know you were so popular,”

What? You chortle. 

“I’m not. Only here because my girlfriend told me to be here, actually,”

Yena nods. Her attention is quickly taken away by Hyewon at the entrance with her dull blonde hair standing out from the crowd. Hyewon startles when Yena places a hand on her shoulder, turns with a smile on her face and you space out for a moment, the sound of the crowd, conversations, and laughter fill your mind. 

Then, Hyewon’s voice is in your ears. _Chae, you really made it! I couldn’t find you anywhere so…_ it drowns out; you keep your eyes closed, grinning to yourself as your head is on her shoulder and you sway her around for a second or two. 

“You could’ve just told me you’re getting married that day, like, what’s the point of all this suspense…” 

Pulling away, you glare at Hyewon. 

You catch an expression of surprise on the person behind her. Eyes widen, eyebrows raise, and she opens her mouth to speak until you catch her gaze and the intoxication clouding your mind clears briefly. 

You knew you would be like this if you ever crossed paths with her out of the blue. You knew your mind would go blank. You knew your mouth would get a little dry. 

You can only stay rooted to the ground as she breaks your gaze.

“Wait—Hey—Hey, hey! Whoa, I didn’t know Kim Minjoo was coming! I’m Choi Yena, remember? Used to date your friend? She told you, right? Wow, Hye, I forgot you’re friends with her—! What about—What about, uh, Hyunjin! He couldn’t make it?”

“Oh, um, no, he’s on a business trip.”

“That’s great, do you—You remember Chaewon? Hey, Chae, do you remember that time you punched him and his face was like, swollen for two weeks? Oh, I think that’s why you were so popular, ha, imagine punching him today and getting away with it... —You’d be a living legend! No offense, Minjoo—Do you think he’s em—”

Hyewon mutters a _God, how much did you drink_ as she covers Yena’s mouth with a hand to stop her onslaughter of sentences. It’s like her loose tongue gets looser when she drinks. Minjoo gives you a polite smile and you nod in response. A polite smile. 

No, she didn’t smile at the 22 year old Kim Chaewon like that. 

When she smiled at 22 year old Kim Chaewon, it seemed like everything around her would brighten because when she smiled at you, her face would light up; outshining everything else in your vision. But 28 year old Kim Chaewon has to settle for this, this smile she would give a stranger on the street. You can’t wish for anything more than that.

The lights in the bar dim a little. 

You can’t tell what the time is anymore.

What do you want from Kim Minjoo?

You don’t know. 

Closure? Forgiveness? 

What can she do to help you forget each time she ignored the 23 year old you? Would anything that she did now erase the pain of the past? You broke her heart, six years ago. How long would it have taken to get over you? 

Maybe she doesn’t want anything to do with you. Maybe it’s only right that you suffer like this; wanting something from her that she can never give you. It’s what you deserve. You have to face the consequences of your actions, this is just another consequence you have to deal with. You only reap what you sow, after all.

Emptier.

It grows silent. Peace settles in after a bustling night. 

Jet black hair cascades down her shoulders. Her skin is pale compared to the flushed faces left in the bar. She’s wearing one of those dresses the models on the cover pages of Vogue wear, you become conscious of your flimsy blue hoodie, white slacks and sneakers. The difference between your perception and her perception of _casual_ is stark. 5 years, her features are more defined. More mature.

28 year old Kim Minjoo is beautiful. 

You didn’t have a good feeling the moment Hyewon started discussing all of your love lives because “she’s engaged and wants her friends to experience the same happiness”. 

Hyewon can’t talk about Yena’s love life because it’s clearly still awkward between the two when it comes to Yuri and Minjoo is already married, inevitably, you become the topic of discussion.

“Didn’t you say you came only ‘cause she asked you to? Ha, you’re so whipped,” You give Yena a dirty look which she pays no heed to. You don’t like the playful glint in Hyewon’s eyes. “Well, if you like her so much, you should get married soon too, Kim. You seem like a, what—a family kinda woman anyway.” 

“Say some shit that makes sense, Kang.”

“What! It’s—”

Hyewon only laughs when you glare. “Well…”

“Nah, nah—you were always like that—like, wait——didn’t you date Minjoo back in college—? Minjoo, wasn’t she—”

_She doesn’t want anything to do with you, anyway._

“Yena,

“There wasn’t anything between us. We weren’t anything—like, if you want to know so bad you can just talk to my girlfriend…”

You can’t look up.

Hyewon groans, Yena slaps your shoulder. “Boo, you’re so boring.”

“Yeah, way to kill the mood, oh my god, I was just tryna joke around! _You’re no fun, Kim Chaewon~”_

“Whatever.”

Maybe drinking with Chaeyeon that regularly for the last few months brought your alcohol tolerance down. Maybe you black out for a while. The world works in ways you can’t understand. You’ll never understand. You remember telling Hyewon _I’m gonna walk home since my apartment is just like right here_ and then she said you were too shitfaced to tell left from right. She was right. What happened after that?

Your consciousness comes back when you start feeling sweat on the top of your brow. It’s warm. It’s hot. No, literally, hot air blows on your face from an air vent in a car that’s definitely not yours. You close the shutters to the vent and frown. Head rolls to look outside the window, in a sleep-induced haze, you forget to panic. A muscle in your neck might as well have strained with the way you jerk your head to see who exactly is driving you to god knows where. Hyewon wouldn’t let you be abducted just like that, right? You hope not.

“What the—,”

Minjoo startles when your voice raises. She looks at you in bewilderment for a second before turning her gaze back to the road. 

“Sorry…”

The woman doesn’t respond. You clear your throat, sitting up, straighten out your clothes and fix your hair. It’s awkward, so your words are arrested in your chest as you peer outside the window. The city passes by in streetlights. 

“Uh, where…?”

You ask, buckling your seatbelt in, after much deliberation. Minjoo stops at a red light. 

“Hye couldn’t drop you and Yena off so…”

Yena isn’t in the backseat when you turn. “She got off right before you woke up.”

“Oh.”

The gasp you let out when you take a look at the time on the dashboard isn’t subtle. Your brows furrow against your own will and guilt springs back into your mind. Minjoo is driving _you_ home. Why do you keep making her suffer? Why are you always making it harder for her? 

“It’s okay. I don’t have anything better to do tomorrow anyway.”

“A-Ah, yeah…”

You bite your lips to keep yourself from spluttering nonsense you’ll regret. Your heart is weighing down, frozen in suspended emotions from years ago. It’s heavy. The air, the desire to beg for—for what, you don’t know. Cold air is on your face when you roll the window down. Why can’t she just take her anger out on you? You know. She’s been keeping it bottled up all these years because—who else can she tell? Who else can she express her disappointment with you to? Why can’t she just inflict her punishment on you? 

_Does the silence torture you as much as it tortures me?_

You hate this indifference. Emotions hiding behind an expressionless facade. She won’t be candid with you. Opaque. You can’t see through this mask of indifference.

A familiar path comes to vision. Flickering yellow lights instead of the bright white ones you faced on the way home. You ask her to stop by a curb a few lanes away from your apartment complex. 

You wish you had the tongue to ask. For her to curse at you. For her to get mad at you. You wish you were capable enough to ask her to look at you. 

But you aren’t. You can only ball your cowardice away into your fists. 

Your back is turned on the car and yet you stand undecided. _Is it the same?_ Is that why she remains, she doesn’t drive off, does she remain undecided with you?

Uncontrollable feelings rise to the top. You breathe into the November air. Your fingers are just above the glass window snug beneath the car’s frame, grasping at silicon, grasping at sand. The fingers you see gripping the steering wheel are an illusion. A trick of light. Mirages. 

Simply. 

“...

“Say something,”

You don’t dare look her in the eyes. Her gaze is downcast, attempts to not burn the side profile in your mind. It’s a plea. Your voice wanes like the moon in the night sky. She won’t look at you.

_Please._

Take a step back. Take a deep breath. Take a right turn and walk away. You don’t walk away. You can’t. The silence is deafening. Her silence. 

You’re not sure how long you remain there, standing on a sidewalk mindlessly by the side of her car, your head slouched between your shoulders and hands desperate for warmth in the holes of your sweater. You’re not sure how long she remains, her eyes downcast, gripping expensive leather, hot air in her car while you let in the cold. The two of you remain, undecided. Monday, a November midnight.

It’s either that she leaves the moment you take a reluctant right turn or you turn the moment you hear the sound of her engine starting, you can’t tell what comes first. Maybe it happens at the same time, you don’t know. 

Like quantum entanglement. You don’t know.

  
  
  


——*——

  
  
  
  
  


This ringtone is sickening. 

Chaewon only liked it at first because the song was trendy last month but now, she can’t help but associate it with her coworkers calling her after work hours to make her troubleshoot whatever they fucked up while trying to get their work done in a haste. Why don’t they ever call Chaeyeon, why is it always her? She runs a hand down her face before pulling her phone out of her pocket to cut the call short. Her head aches with a dull throb. Reluctantly, she opens an eye, the ceiling of her apartment is barely illuminated with morning light. Her keys hang from the keyhole of the door and—wait, why are her feet not cold? Her toes are warm. 

Propping herself on her elbows, Chaewon sees the half of her body clad in white in the hallway, sneakers intact, keeping the warmth to her feet. Chaewon lies half in her apartment and half in the hallway—her favourite blue hoodie is stained near the collar, white slacks are uneven at the hems on her calves. Drinking with Chaeyeon _must_ have brought her alcohol tolerance down to the bare minimum because how couldn’t she even at least enter her apartment to go to sleep? She even opened the door, for fuck’s sake. 

If only she hadn’t sat on the floor to mope over the past last night. She would’ve held on to the last thread of sobriety if it weren’t for those intrusive thoughts. Her ears heat up at the thought of her neighbours seeing her splayed out in this awkward half in half out state. There goes her hard-earned social status, all the respect they had for her gone because of a drunken emotional breakdown. See, this is why there’s no point in mulling over the past. It only breeds irresponsibility. 

After she closes the door as softly as she can, her phone demands attention again. 

Chaewon’s voice is nasally and there’s an itch in her throat with each syllable spoken. 

“Hello?...”

“Chaewon, where are you?! Don’t you remember?! Today is when the members of the board come in! What are you _fucking doing?!_ Get your ass over here _quick!!”_

Great. She feels like shit in the first place, and Chaeyeon’s explosion through the phone doesn’t help. Chaeyeon doesn’t allow her to respond—she didn’t have any intention to, anyway. 

The water is cold on her face as if to further the onset of her cold on purpose. Her hair is undried. If Chaeyeon saw her spending 5 minutes staring at her car keys then she would simply not exist anymore.

The bus ride has her feeling hollow, people are sparse and not in her business, but she feels an emptiness settle because it’s not what she’s used to. An empty bus. The lack of people around. She misses the rude sneers people give her when she doesn’t give up a seat for the elderly or whatever. The curses they mutter under their breath, the tired faces with no will to go on anymore. Cold settles in the vacancy, her heart turns to stone. 

The most sucking up, the most bootlicking. 

Chaewon rakes her hair through her fingers as she looks at her reflection in the metal doors of the elevator. She has to give a good impression, of course, as team leader. If anything goes wrong she’ll be the first to blame—then her boss will hold an eternal grudge against her for fucking up in front of _the_ most important people in the company and she’ll never get promoted ever again. It’s just a show to put on, Chaewon will act her heart out. She is where she is after a mere three years in the company for a reason, after all. She does her best at sucking up, bootlicking, charming people with her natural charms to assure that everything is safe in her hands. 

Juyeon stains the plain surface of her desk as he sits cross-legged on it, Chaeyeon is seated in her chair and they’re talking idly in her cubicle when she enters with a frown. 

“Why were you shouting at me over the phone when you’re lounging around like this?” Her brows meet at the middle of her forehead in irritation, shoving Chaeyeon out of her chair and pushing Juyeon off her desk to put her bag in his place, collapsing into hard foam, sighing. “What? You’re half an hour late. What if they came in the meantime? We’d be dead meat…”

“What? They’re not even here yet?”

“No, actually—wait, it’s kind of a long story.” Juyeon pauses for what she doesn’t know. Dramatic effect? Her patience is running thin so it’s not helping. Chaewon arches a brow. “I’m listening…”

“So—, they’re legitimately executive board members of the company: like _the_ company, they’re the people who work with the CEO and all that jazz. Now they’re working with us, can you believe that? I heard the contract with Zhuoshui is special because the CEO is indebted to the head of the company over there… don’t you think they should pay us a little more if it’s so important? Anyway—since both of you were late Wang made _me_ talk to one of the members that was here before the clock—Wow, wow. She was so young, I wonder how she got that powerful so fast—Oh, and she’s on the better looking side, so that’s a relief. Jongmyeon said the other “executive” was the CEO’s wife and considering how old the CEO is… It’s wrinkles galore… amirite…?”

She stares on, too busy contemplating whether that counts as workplace sexism or not. “Wait, you were late too?”

Chaeyeon barks a laugh in embarrassment. “Ah, yeah… But not as late as you though!” The laughter stops when she rolls her eyes. A finger points to Juyeon. “What did you talk about? With the woman. What did she want to know?”

“Uh—just, she was more concerned about the team working overseas and how long each of them is staying, if we have plans to send the newer members there… all that stuff…”

It takes about 15 minutes for the meeting to start. As the team is seated in the conference room, Mr. Wang rushes in wiping the perspiration off his brow. He lectures (threatens) them to be on their best behaviour and to not mess anything up, telling them to just stick to what he told them to say last Friday and to _look a little charismatic, lively! Team leader Kim, no resting bitch face for today, okay?_ It takes everything not to sucker punch him to the ground.

“Oh, and Bae Sangtae—! Don’t get cheeky at _any_ time and start calling them by their names, okay? You don’t get to call them Hyunjae like you do to me, okay?

(He only lets it slide because they’re family friends,)

They’re both married, so address them by _Mrs._ Not _Ms.,_ not their first names—not whatever you want. That goes for all of you! We can _not_ fu–mess this up at any cost, okay? Alright!”

Chaewon presses the edges of her collar down.

Right before she stands, she pulls at her employee ID tag and clears her throat. Forcing a smile.

The smile drops, she doesn’t know if it’s instantaneous or if it fades like a dream. Fuck, she’s going to lose her job. 

She’s going to lose her job because she freezes in her spot because of um, uh, what? _What?_ This is absurd. This is ludicrous. Insanity. The universe hates her—fuck the universe—fuck whatever reasons for she is in this situation—fuck, who can she blame for this tragedy? Tragedy? What can you call this? 

Words are being spoken. 

_CEO’s wife. Young, better looking side, beautiful._

The surprise on her face. 

The professionalism when she masks it with a smile after her introduction. 

“Lee Chaeyeon, Mrs. Bang! Mrs. Kim! Executive manager!” 

Chaeyeon retracts her hand with a repulsive grin. The enthusiasm makes Chaewon grimace. She settles for a milder expression. 

“Kim Chaewon, Mrs. Bang,”

Her hands are soft, her grip is firm but Chaewon’s is lax. She tries cracking a smile.

“Miss–us—Kim. I’m an executive manager too.”

“Both of you were late.”

“Ah—yeah, it was a one time thing, Mrs. Kim! Please excuse us this once!” Chaeyeon bows at a ninety degree angle and Chaewon follows suit. A tsk from Mr. Wang.

_CEO’s wife._

She didn’t notice the silver ring on her finger last night.

CEO. 

Isn’t the CEO Park Woojin? 

Isn’t he like seventy years old? 

Since when is she an executive member of the board for this company? 

Of all the people they could send, why her? 

Why Kim Minjoo?

  
  


Chaeyeon snaps her fingers in front of her face, frowning. “Are you even listening?”

Chaewon sighs. 

“No, what were you saying?”

“Why are you so—! 

Whatever—I was saying I’m glad that we get to see Mrs. Kim every day—I’ll have you know that she’s totally my type, by the way. You know, high cheekbones, big eyes, sharp—”

“—You know she’s married, right?”

“Uhm, so? Beauty is beauty no matter what! Besides, she must be married to some old dude ten feet away from death so I _may_ have a ch—”

“Who’s the CEO of the company?” Chaeyeon blinks at the interruption. Chaewon stands, looking over the walls of the cubicle to call out for Juyeon. “Is this company related to the Hwangs somehow?”

“Is it? I’m not sure. Why, what’s up?”

“Well, that woman—the one you were talking about, she’s Hwang Hyunjin’s wife—, and I don’t think Park Woojin is even married.” 

“Oh my god, really? _The_ Hwang Hyunjin’s wife? Now that you say it, I wouldn’t be surprised if he owned this enterprise too… You didn’t hear it from me, but I heard they do stuff like this to evade the law or whatever… isn’t this how money laundering works? Chaeyeon, don’t you know all this stuff?”

Before she can make more of a fool of herself in front of the people she was supposed to impress, Chaewon promptly goes back to her cubicle after lunch and works diligently for the rest of the day. 

She expects something to happen, but no, it doesn’t. Well, maybe Minjoo entering the elevator right when she was giving Chaeyeon a lecture on not to drink because she literally looks like shit but her voice breaking uncomfortably because of her cold at the exact moment she came in counts for something, but really, it’s not anything.

White lights are nauseating. Chaewon has never liked pharmacies or hospitals for as long as she can remember, so she welcomes the empty air above white marble floor between glass shelves only after much deliberation. 

The pharmacist’s face is in a scowl. It stays the same when she asks what medicines help for a fever. It stays the same when he grunts, moves between the counter and glass shelves to reach for a strip of tablets to her left. Since she’s losing her voice, he suggests Benadryl—out of concern for her or to make a little extra money, Chaewon doesn’t speculate. 

In exchange for change, she takes a few cough drops. On the way home, the taste of menthol and lemon lingers in her mouth. Yiren tells her to dress warmly and not go to work tomorrow if her body can’t keep up. She collapses onto her bed, the call ends, and with it, so does the day.

  
  


(Is it thoughts or are you dreaming already?

Memories of white flood your senses. Bleeding out from a wound left unattended. A dull flame reignites and thousands of insects as fragments of your memory crawl down your body. A cinema you have no control over plays through your mind.

6 years. 

6 years ago. 

How could you end the story of Kim Chaewon and Kim Minjoo that easily? 

Why were you such a fool?

Why did it take you _her_ to learn arrogance does you no good?

Why didn’t you just answer when she called? 

Why didn’t you reach out? 

_Why did you let go of her that easily?_

6 years ago, you didn’t answer when she called. You wanted to be a little more stubborn. Arrogant. Prideful. (Full of shit). You were too late. Too late to Hyewon’s brother’s wedding; too late to do something. Anything. You found out too late that her family was getting shit that day because of something her brother did. If you knew, you would’ve done something, right? You wouldn’t let her suffer from the burden of you _and_ the world, right? Even though you were a complete asshat back then, you would’ve comforted her, right?

Life is timing. You were always late. 

Always late when it comes to Kim Minjoo, you just didn’t know, that’s all.

Life is timing. Her father knows, so it happened right in your presence. Right after the wedding ended. Kim Minjoo and Hwang Hyunjin getting engaged. 

She wouldn’t look at you. 

You couldn’t do anything about it. You were—are nothing compared to these multimillionaires. A speck of dust. How could you compare to them? 

6 years, yet the same doubt remains—you are nothing, but maybe, maybe the love you had for her was something. Multitudes left unspoken. You loved her, she knew. She loved you, you were too late to realize it. Maybe that love six years ago could’ve done something, it would’ve done something. 

If only you did something, maybe you would be with her today. If only you weren’t so stupid.

She never talked to you after that. She never looked at you. You never got to look into those eyes so brown they seemed black. You’ll never be those students falling in love under the pretense of fooling around again. It’s only right that she hates you now.

If only you had tried to get her to speak to you. If only you were selfish. If only you fought for a love that remains as burning white fragments of your memory. 

Those eyes that looked at you with sweetness no matter what. Her voice that was gentle in your ears whenever she called your name. That smile, the raising corners of her lips, the indents on her cheek that deepened most when it came to you. 

If only.

Shattered porcelain stained red as you bleed out, black poisoning white.

If only.)

  
  
  
  
  


** ∗∗∗ **

  
  
  
  
  


It becomes something of a cycle.

Waking up. Holding her feet. Cursing the cold. 

Riding the bus to work only after staring at her car keys for half a minute. 

If a white Maserati pulls in before she enters the building, she climbs all five floors of stairs leaving her a sweaty, panting mess when she reaches her floor. If it doesn’t—unfortunately for her, days like that never come, so every morning is spent catching her breath on the way to her cubicle. Unfortunately, Mrs. Kim seems to be critical about being on time just like she is. Unfortunately, these executives take their job seriously. 

Instead of working on the floor above them where all of her bosses are, the two women work on her floor and as a result rob Chaeyeon and Chaewon of their cubicles — now Chaewon has to walk ten extra steps to crumble into her chair. 

On days when she’s too worn out to be mindful of her surroundings, muscle memory leads her to her old cubicle and she has to apologize in quick short breaths to Mrs. Kim for entering the cubicle that used to be hers. 

The woman always responds with a mere nod. The worries she had about working with her subdued into a dull throb that she doesn’t even notice anymore. Maybe it’s because she keeps her contact with Mrs. Kim to the bare minimum—Chaewon does not suck up—, reports are discussed with Mrs. Bang and the times she speaks to Mrs. Kim are only out of her responsibility as team manager and the slight fear of losing her job if Mr. Wang found out. In those times, her eyes are avoidant. She doesn’t dare stare at the woman for more than three seconds at a time. Her voice oscillates between half an octave higher and lower than her usual tone. 

Her face probably looks confused because she can never decide if she should smile or frown at Mrs. Kim. Maybe when Mrs. Kim speaks to Chaeyeon, her voice is softer and her eyes are less intense, but what does she know? Chaewon is confined to a three-second limit.

She must think that Chaewon is a little slow. 

Whenever she says _Chae,_ she always assumes it will be followed by _Yeon,_ so when Mrs. Kim actually calls her name, she responds a few seconds late.

Chaeyeon tells her that she’s a workaholic but she can’t understand why she feels that way. She just wants to get all her work done so she can sleep peacefully at night. She leaves late only because it gets dark at 5:30 and she loses track of time. It’s not her fault. It’s just the winter sun. Chaewon forgoes dinner and drinking with Chaeyeon on the weekends but it’s fine, she’s used to this routine anyway. The lights in the corners go off and the four above her stay on when she’s with the few people still working in the office. 

Then, Chaewon takes the elevator, because Mrs. Kim usually leaves before she does. Five floors down, then three floors up, and her blocked nose blocks the taste of her bitter lemon juice. 

The cycle ends only for it to start again. 

Everyday is the same day. Changes happen like the shift of seasons: slowly, without her notice. Chaewon can never tell when these changes start. How they come about. Do they compound like waves crashing on the shore, are they thunderclouds lashing out at once. She doesn’t know.

Again, another day. Nothing stands out today, nothing remarkable happens. Jang Wonyoung complains to her that Ahn Yujin seems to always have a problem with anything she does and Ahn Yujin complains that the accounts team never reads her emails and asks her to verify documents she already double checked so it’s only right that she confronts Jang Wonyoung’s incompetence and Chaewon spends her afternoon trying to sort out the disagreement between the two. 

Appraisals are coming in next week, so everyone works a little harder. Everyone includes Chaewon, so she leaves office later than usual. Today is no different. She’ll have to get glasses if she keeps working in this poor lighting—but tonight, she supposes her eyes will be spared. All the lights stay on tonight. Why?, before she can even wonder, she spots Mrs. Kim walking to her cubicle, each step she takes is shorter than the other. It’s a Friday and they’re supposed to dress a little more casual today, casual to Mrs. Kim is just a cardigan over her usual dress shirt now untucked as if to rebel against her usual tuck. Chaewon feels conscious of the slippers on her feet when she spots white sneakers trudging on the floor. 

All the lights are on because Mrs. Kim stays back to work late. 

_Late_ can’t be more than an hour. Wait. Maybe an hour and a half. She can’t really tell, because she loses track of time and she can’t really tell if Mrs. Kim is still working or not because all the lights are still on. She left them on out of consideration before she left. No, she left them on because she didn’t know she was supposed to turn them off. No, she doesn’t know where the switches are and left, assuming Chaewon would turn them off. 

The switches are right beside the water dispenser. Chaewon crushes the paper cup in her hand as she realizes she didn’t throw it in the bin after she switched the lights off, absentminded, she can’t be bothered to walk all the way back. The elevator is only a few feet away.

But maybe she should’ve turned back. The closing doors halt when her foot is half in, the slouched body in the corner stands upright when she stops stupidly between the doors. Time waits for her to decide to take half a step forward, half a step backward. She’s not going to be rude to the woman right in front of her face like that, she shuffles to give away before doors close on her. Mrs. Kim stops them again abruptly, shooting Chaewon an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, I think I left my phone back there,”

She nods, unwilling to speak after a few hours of silence. No words are spoken. A shake of her phone and she offers it to Mrs. Kim, the flashlight illuminates a circle on the ground. One tired face looks at another. She waits, a foot keeps the doors open. 

Minjoo doesn’t turn off the lights because she’s afraid of the dark. Chaewon knows, it’s easier to pretend that she doesn’t.

Mrs. Kim mutters a thank you and she nods. Five floors down, it’s too late to wonder what the air inside feels like. It’s late, so she takes a cab instead of a bus. It’s late, so no thoughts except those of sleep fill her mind.

Do waves crash? 

Does lightning strike?

  
  


-

  
  


“I’ve never seen him look that happy before.”

“Well, if I was him I’d be over the moon too,”

Chaewon looks at Chaeyeon with distaste as the woman stares at the far end of the table with dreamy eyes. Extreme desperation seems to be a symptom of heartbreak. She’s in her _yes I’m over my ex and no I’m not trying to sleep with every woman I see_ phase. The drinking is still a bit of a problem, so Chaewon does her best to keep her the farthest she can from the expensive drinks splayed out in front of them but it’s counterproductive because it just makes it easier for Chaeyeon to order since she’s at the corner of the table. Well, whatever. She’s doing her best. 

“Wanna bet?”

“Bet on what?"

On his relationship, of course. I bet they won’t last more than a year.

Chaewon, you really need to start looking at the brighter side of things. I mean, their smiles are genuine—you just can’t tell since it’s been ages since you smiled like that.

What about those two being together looks genuine to you? He’s obviously dating her for the social status and she’s with him for his money. What kind of woman like that would settle for greasy Wang? 

I dunno, maybe he’s secretly super sweet and we just don’t know. 

Does he seem like a super sweet person behind closed doors to you?

Uh—, no, but. They look like they’re in love. Don’t you think so…?

—Nah, no. See. I bet 30 grand that they won’t last three months.

Chaeyeon raises a brow and takes her open hand into a handshake. Deal? Deal. The eruption dies down when Mr. Wang settles at the other end of the table with his girlfriend. Chaewon can’t discern if he called her over to show off or out of genuinity. It is somewhat strange to bring your girlfriend to a company dinner but he’s paying for it and she was _just in the neighborhood_ so whatever. Maybe he’s not all in the wrong, though. 

Anyone would want to show off their girlfriend who happens to be the representative of their hometown for the Miss Korea pageant. Chaeyeon doesn’t seem to know what love is.No wonder her last relationship crashed and burnt in flames. The woman is naive. Love is easy to fake, and people like her are easy to fool. 

But maybe Chaewon is wrong. Maybe it is love and she mistakenly looks at the glass half empty all the time. Well, three months will tell. If it is love, she’ll pay the price for her pessimism later. 

Chaeyeon doesn’t know what love is. 

While Chaewon distracts herself from the hollowness of her chest by overworking, Chaeyeon can’t do the same. It doesn’t help that her girlfriend broke up with her right before the season started, nights feel colder than usual. She’s doing her best not to fall into destructive behaviours again, but Mr. Wang’s girlfriend kinda looks like her ex and that’s saddening. 

That leads to Chaewon having to call a cab for the woman because she’s too drunk to drive home. It’s been a tiring day. Nothing can get more exhausting than this. Chaeyeon is heaved into the backseat and thankfully she’s sober enough to go home on her own.

  
  


_You see the world in black and white._

  
  


“Chaewon,”

Her tone is not sudden. It sounds like she’s been there for a while. Mrs. Kim looks at her with nonchalance, light from the street lamp she leans on casts shadows on her countenance. “Can’t you call a cab for me too?”

“Uh—Oh—, of… course.”

Why does it look like annoyance?

Why does it sound like annoyance? Mrs. Kim sighs when she takes her phone out of the flimsy brown jacket hanging off her shoulders. The tugs of her lips downwards are obvious when her eyes get used to the darkness. It wasn’t a sigh, it was a scoff. A scowl. Why? She can’t ask. 

Chaewon frowns at flushed cheeks, pink ears hidden under black locks. Mrs. Kim is drunk. Mrs. Kim is annoyed, maybe the slight crease in her brows that catches her attention tells her to follow when the woman passes by her and—no, it doesn’t. She can only turn around and get a step in before Mrs. Kim stops in her tracks to face her. 

Something like deja vu plays. Tempos too fast for her to catch up. Why?

“Why,”

The world’s exasperation in one word. 

“Why do you act this way?”

“I—… what?”

“You’re like smoke, you know. So… vague. Like, what is it, _translucent.”_

A half-hearted poke at her shoulder. The frown is now set on her face. She opens her mouth to say something, but only the condensation of her breath follows. “Just—If you don’t like working with me, you can say it to my face. Why do you play mind games. Why,”

Cold, cold wind blows. Under her skin, tears prickling her eyes. It’s so much colder these days. Why did it get so cold, so fast? She can’t be in the right mind now. She’s drunk. She’s just… 

“You’re so obvious when you tiptoe around me. What did I even do to you? Why do _you_ think you can act like that around _me? I_ should be doing like that instead of you. Why do you act like you care? Can’t you—Do you want to let go or not—? Do you want to let go of the past or not—? You’re so ambiguous when it comes to that—right? You probably—probably don’t even know yourself. You don’t, do you? That’s why you can’t say anything. You can’t.

“I hate you, Kim Chaewon. You’re horrible—You’re worse after all these years. You can’t even decide how to act around me. You don’t know if you should put it all behind you and be mature about it or if you should be _considerate_ of me and keep distance. Distance, what distance? I don’t even—even care about what you’ll do. Just make up your goddamn mind, for once. Once in your life, like, I hate you, really. I hate you.”

The flush rises to her neck because of the wind. She turns away, leaving Chaewon behind in the dust. Something about late night confidence. “Mrs. Kim, wait.”

The hand on the woman’s wrist is too forward. Nylon padding slips out of her grip when she becomes conscious of the woman’s gaze on her wrist. It rises in her throat. Six years. Cold emotions. When else if not now? “I’m sorry...”

A long look at her face. For once, she can look into Mrs. Kim’s eyes, changing shades of black and brown. Sorry for what? Chaewon isn’t sure what to apologize for. Everything at once. All of the stupid things she’s done. It feels like the few seconds turn into infinity. Silence stretches out, cold pierces her heart. 

“Did it really mean nothing to you?”

“...What?”

“I mean I had my doubts but I was so sure that… Was I wrong? Was it nothing? Didn’t it mean something to you? Did it not mean anything to you? Were you—You were just fucking around with me——Just fucking me so you could brag about it later. Was I wrong to think that—that it was, that it was real? You’re the worst. And you have the audacity to rub it in my face.”

“...

“...Mrs. Kim, you’re not… you’re not thinking straight. I’ll—”

Chaewon sucks in a breath when her collar is grabbed and black and white fill her vision. Mrs. Kim is angry. It’s anger in her eyes. It’s the culmination of 6 years of her disappointment. A punishment. Heavy weights on her chest rise. She’s in the clouds. Minjoo’s grip makes the fabric at the back of your shirt contract. Her fists ball tighter into your coat the longer she stares into your eyes. Your eyes that speak of surrender, you give in to her will. Surrender. White flags. The karmic law of the universe possesses Minjoo for her to inflict punishment on you. You deserve this. 

She hates you. 

She loves you. 

No, things are not only black or white. It’s not that simple. 

The world is not black or white. 

A myriad of colours. Minjoo is white light. White light, spreading as a spectrum in the prisms of your eyes. Minjoo is a shimmering rainbow in seven colours hidden in white. 

You see her shoulders fall and rise. Her lips tremble the longer you look into her eyes. _La vie en Rose._ The scarce time spent with her was the rosy pink to your life. Your vision fills with pink. Flowers blooming through midnight.

Warmth rushes through your veins. Her arms slip under your coat to embrace you. Minjoo hugs you, Minjoo is hugging you. She leans down to your shoulder, breaths that are uneven, tears in the corner of her eyes. Your punishment, why does it feel like forgiveness. Your arms come around her neck, with or without much thought, you can’t tell. Black locks are smooth under your palm when you try to be soothing. 

“It wasn’t nothing, Minjoo. I’m sorry. You weren’t wrong. Sorry, it was all my fault— I…”

“Shut up,” she breathes, the arms around your waist seem to lock in place. You swallow all your words down, staying there longer than you need to. 

Why do you feel dizzy with warmth? 

You know. The world of 6 years ago flashes like lightning in the moment. Unspoken words, unfelt feelings, unforgotten memories bleeding out at once.

You feel dizzy with warmth.

You feel dizzy for a long, long time.

  
  
  
  
  


―—*——

  
  
  
  
  


Society is at its worst.

Protect virtue and it will protect you.

Karma ensures that one’s actions have due consequences. The next life is decided depending on how virtuous one has been, and the cycle repeats. One life after the other. All souls going through this cycle until the end of time, until the absolute deterioration of humanity, until divinity comes as salvation to start this entire cycle again, restoring all justice and righteousness of the beginning, all four limbs intact, serving divinity with a whole heart. The cycle will always exist. All beginnings and endings. All cycles of life and death, all cycles of life ending and beginning. 

There must be something more. Beyond death and birth. Something to break the bondage of mortal life. Something beyond earthly desires. To break this cycle. Emancipation. Liberation. Liberation from the cycle of life and death. 

Devotion.

The easiest way out of this cycle is devotion. To be liberated from the cycle of life and death is to be aware of one’s ignorance of the world and striving to rid oneself of that. Maybe that’s what it is, maybe that’s what it’s not. If it is, it must have something to do with intense devotion. Selflessness. Surrendering oneself completely unto some cosmic will, the easiest way for salvation is devotion.

Chaewon is not particularly religious, but what is devotion but love? Devotion is the purest form of love. Giving without expecting anything in return. Devotion is, devotion is.

The best love story out of all cycles of endless love stories.

  
  
  


## Love,

  
  


####  _Scene 1 2 3_

It is a bit embarrassing, of course. The next week starts with Minjoo apologizing for her unruly behaviour and Chaewon smiles to reassure her that it’s fine. Really, she wouldn't have lasted another two months in the office—in the same space with the woman—if she hadn’t done what she did that day. 

It’s amusing, She can offer Minjoo a smile in reassurance only because of what Minjoo had done. It’s embarrassing and Chaewon would rather not think of it, but she at least has to give the impression that it’s not awkward between them and their professional relationship will continue as it is with absolutely no awkwardness between them at all. 

It’s done. All closure and forgiveness is given. 

Something possesses Chaeyeon to come to work earlier than usual (more specifically, right when Chaewon comes to work and white Maseratis pull in) and forces Chaewon to take the elevator with her every single day. That means taking the elevator with Minjoo almost every single day: Chaeyeon seems to have forgotten that the woman is still their boss because she has no inhibitions telling Chaewon of her newfound problems with her family almost every single morning. 

Maybe Minjoo finds it amusing with the way Chaeyeon jumps from one topic to another because each time she does, her shoulders seem to shake with quiet laughter. Who knows, Chaewon can only guess, only being able to look at the woman’s back profile. 

It’s either that she gets used to her presence or it’s Chaeyeon’s infectious personality but somewhere along the weeks into early December, she gets comfortable bemoaning her own problems. The air is so empty. It’s way too cold. Why hasn’t it snowed yet? Why hasn’t my appraisal come yet though? Did you know they’re raising the price of bus tickets? I swear this extra money is just going into the pockets of the rich. Days pass by and problems continue to arise.

  
  


“They’re insane, y’know? And my mother—my mother is the worst of them all. See, I know she told me not to date her and that she’d disown me if I did but I didn’t think she’d really do it! I really thought that _she_ was _the one,_ am I wrong for following my heart? Now if I want to be welcomed back into the family they expect me to get married to whoever they pick. It’s not fair, Chae. My own family playing mind games with me.”

One idle Wednesday afternoon. Seconds pass by slower, slower, slower. She has no heart to eat but Chaeyeon forces her to. Chaewon frowns when the woman exasperates. “I’ll be honest with you—just suck it up and apologize, there’s no point in playing hard to get. It never ends well if both you and your family are being stubborn. Someone’s gotta lay up sometime. You’ll lose out on a lot if you don’t just swallow your pride and say sorry.”

“But… then... I’ll still be forced into an arranged marriage.”

“I’m sure if you just admit to your faults they’ll let it go. Or maybe you could prove your worth to them, something like that. Then they’ll realize you’re capable enough of making your own decisions.”

“...”

“What? You know—Let your ego disappear for awhile and think of it. Trust me, I know how these kinds of situations are.”

Chaeyeon stares at her for a beat, sighing. “You act like you’re so mature all the time.”

“...That’s what my personality is like.”

“Hm. It’s annoying sometimes.”

“Is that so.”

Yes. Chaewon flips her off. 

Chaeyeon must be right. Maybe she is a workaholic. The office is quiet, time passes only when things feel idle. The night doesn’t seem as dark as usual when she glances outside the glass panes. All lights left on. She’s dazed for a moment, staring at the ceiling before coming back to her senses. Incompetent employees who can’t even bother saving electricity. Of course she’s a workaholic. If these kinds of idiots are going to work here, who else will do most of the work? The lights flicker on her way to the water dispenser. A worthless company. Can’t even bother getting proper lighting. 

But it isn’t incompetent employees forgetting to turn off some of the lights or this worthless company’s apathy. No, it’s Minjoo trying to figure out which of these switches turns off all the lights. Maybe Minjoo is a workaholic as well. She startles at Chaewon’s footsteps, face painted confused—surprised—embarrassed.

“I don’t know why they made this thing so complicated,” Chaewon says, leaving the first and last three switches turned upwards and the rest down. Minjoo breathes a laugh at the strange wiring. Light from her phone leading the way. 

“How are you going to get home? I don’t think buses run this late.” 

“Oh, I—I’ll just take a cab or something.”

“But it’s really late. Won’t the fare be higher at night?”

“Well, yeah… I should just get off work earlier if I want to evade that, there’s—”

“I could drop you if you’d like.”

Chaewon stares at the woman as the door to the elevator open. Minjoo stares back until the doors start closing, a hand stopping the door as she steps out, somehow coercing Chaewon to do the same. “What? Is there something on my face…”

Why? Would it be better to know the answer or not? No. It’s nothing absurd, she’s just offering out of kindness. You have to be good to the people working under you, right. No need to overthink something as simple as this. 

Hot air on her face. Minjoo’s car is nice. Much better than hers, obviously. It seems like Minjoo is good at driving; a childish fantasy of wanting to teach her how to drive all those years ago comes to mind. She laughs silently to herself. Crowds of people gathered on the streets, even this late at night. “There’s so many people outside…”

“Because it’s snowing, haven’t you noticed?”

Is it? It is. 

Snowfall is gentle. No storms to announce its arrival. It’s not crowds of people, it’s just couples parading the streets. Snow starts to cover the road, she has to crane her neck to see white tracks on the sidewalk. First snow. White in her vision. 

“Mrs—, Minjoo, are you happy?”

Absurd. She looks at Chaewon as if the very question is absurd, chuckling. “Why are you asking? What gives the impression that I’m not?”

“I don’t know. The snow is making me feel sentimental. I can only ask in this kind of atmosphere, don’t you think?”

“I guess.”

Time doesn’t feel real the deeper the night goes, after all. It’ll just be a muddled memory, maybe mistaken for a dream.

  
  


“Do you love him?”

  
  


Mrs. Kim is quick-witted, Minjoo has always been that way. It takes a mere second. “Do you love your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,”

“Of course I love my husband.”

Of course. Chaewon smiles. Mrs. Kim can’t give without taking in return, so it seems. “Are you happy?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Maybe it’s because it’s winter, maybe it’s because things are a little hard now. I can’t really think of happiness now…”

Oh. Maybe you need to get some sunlight.

...What?

You know, just being in the sunlight for a few minutes every day. Don’t you feel better after basking in the sun? It feels good. Do your bones feel weak?

Um, I guess…

Vitamin D deficiency causes seasonal depression or something like that. You have to take care of your health, Chaewon. 

“You look sickly, d’you know?” Is it supposed to be an insult? Chaewon doesn’t have the time to be offended over it anyway, because soon after the pad of Minjoo’s thumb presses into her cheekbone and she retracts in surprise. When did they even reach her apartment?

“You don’t eat dinner, do you? No wonder you look like a skeleton. If you don’t take care of yourself now, it’s just going to come back to torment you in the future. It’s better to take action when you have time, isn’t it?”

Why does she allude to a million things? Chaewon doesn’t know. Mrs. Kim has always been vague in her words, but now they seem even harder to decipher.

The first snow. Strange weather brings a storm, hailstones pelleting the ground throughout the night. Lightning strikes, illuminating her room in brief flashes. Strange weather. Strange.

  
  


####  _Scene 4 5 6 7_

  
  
  


The sheets feel warmer than usual. Not unkempt but nicely draped over you and—and, Yiren? You turn in the woman’s grip on your waist and smile when she brings a hand to your cheek, looking into her eyes. “When did you—” She doesn’t let you finish because she’s soon kissing you insistently. A little too insistently. Pushing you down until the ends of her hair curtain your face, your hand holds the strands back and you smile into the kiss. “Babe, what’s with—”

“Babe? I thought I was the only one you’d call baby?”

It’s not your girlfriend’s voice.

She’s looking down on you. The brown locks slowly slipping out of your grasp. That condescending smirk on her face. Leading you on, pushing your limits, always. 22 year old Kim Minjoo.

“Chae, you like me, right?”

Smiling as she looks down on you. 

No, but it’s 28 year old Kim Minjoo. She looks like 28 year old Kim Minjoo. But she looks like 22 year old Kim Minjoo too but—fuck it, you can’t tell. You can’t move. Her hands cup your face, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbones. 

“You’re the worst,”

“I hate you, Kim Chaewon.”

You can’t move. The music gets louder, faster, you’re sinking into an abyss, falling, endlessly. 

Incessant. Her alarm is worse than her ringtone. Well, if it wasn’t that bad, then she wouldn’t wake up in the morning. Chaewon jerks awake to the sound of the alarm blasting right next to her ear. Sheets are cold, in a mess. Her toes are cold.

The problem with winter mornings is that during the morning her dreams come back in bits and pieces and they’re always the most bizarre dreams, all the time. 

Especially during winter, her dreams seem to get more and more ridiculous. Her dream started with her being hunted down in some sort of dystopian world, then—, she texts Yiren in haste because her girlfriend likes it when she dreams of her, and only when she buttons her shirt does she remember the entirety of the dream.

“What the fuck,” 

Thankfully, no cars pull in as Chaeyeon tags along with her to the elevator. She holds a breath until the doors close, praying that no Maseratis appear out of the blue. She wouldn’t be able to face Mrs. Kim while the dream is still fresh in her mind. It’s all because of the cold morning air messing with her. Perhaps it’s a warning that she’s descending into insanity.

Minjoo doesn’t even come to work today.

Chaeyeon reminds her that it’s time for her daily sunlight and remarks that her cubicle is empty on their way to the rooftop of the building. “Hey, I think it’s because of this,” She says, a hand covers her phone screen so Chaewon can read the article clearer. _Visual couple Hwang Hyunjin, Kim Minjoo caught showing affection at Panazone charity event._ Well, there’s no denying that they look good together. Pictured, the couple staring into each other’s eyes, smiling, as if indifferent to all the cameras around them. 

“I don’t get why they’re treated like celebrities. They’re just businessmen, right?”

“It’s all in the looks, Chaewon. When was the last time you saw a business couple that looked like that? People just like that kinda stuff. It’s like when Bae Suzy and Lee Minho used to be together. See? All the comments are talking about how perfect they seem to be for each other… _A match made in heaven… I’m so jealous… Pretty people only go for pretty people…_ see?”

Chaewon sighs. 

“Now these rich bastards are in the media too. Don’t they have the money and fame already? What should people like you and me do?”

Chaeyeon stays silent. The sun is warm, the winter sun is the best sun, now that she thinks of it. 

“Then we should get rich too.”

She scoffs but the woman remains serious. How terrifying. Chaeyeon is being serious. “How are we going to do that, exactly?”

“I’m thinking of starting a company, Chae. Honestly, I’ve got all the resources I need to start one. Like you said, I need to prove myself to my family somehow. I’m sick of them thinking I’m the useless one in the family. I’ve got a solid idea for a start up, and I really think it’s time to realize the idea, you know, work for it, work hard and all. I really… I need to do this for myself.”

“By _prove yourself to your family_ I meant like, I dunno, landing a job overseas, buying yourself a house or something, not starting a damn company that’ll probably take years to find any success. Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?”

“Okay, wait. To be really honest, I’m rich, Chaewon. Like, super rich. My grandfather was in the government for almost thirty years, my father owns those buses you ride to work, I’m the third generation in a line of wealth. I can persuade my dad into supporting the company at the start, with his connections and whatnot. I need to achieve something, I want to. I want something I can say I did on my own.” 

She pauses for a moment to look at Chaewon’s face. Why do her ears go red, pupils shaking when Chaewon raises a brow?

“And… um… I think… It’d be nice if you were by my side… y’know, in those times…”

“...Are you confessing to me?”

“—What? You wish. You’re not even my type. I mean—if it wasn’t for you I’d probably be depressed and going to AA meetings against my own will. I’m not kidding. You were there for me… and you didn't want me to ruin my life… and yeah… you understand, right? I’m really grateful for you and, I hope you have faith in me this once and I _really_ think we can go far.”

Chaewon feels touched. Being good has good consequences, after all. Her ears start to heat up. Dammit, she’s not good with her emotions either. “I always had this feeling you were rich. I knew it.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

“Uh, your apartment, your car, the clothes you wear… literally anyone can tell you’re rich.”

What’s the metaphor again? People in glass houses don’t know they’re in glass houses? Rich people can’t tell they look rich? Or maybe Chaeyeon is just that naive. 

Chaeyeon is that naive. Her curiosity gets the best of her and she checks an article about them for once. Rich people know they’re rich, they know that they look rich, and they love rubbing it in everyone’s faces. All the Rolexes, branded suits, diamond rings, whatever. 

Smiling, looking into each other’s eyes. 

_A match made in heaven._

They look good. 

They do. 

-

She was hoping that Mrs. Kim would come to office yesterday but today she wishes the woman didn't come at all. Minjoo is still her boss and she’ll act like a boss when the time comes. 

Her boss strikes up an unwarranted conversation about her appraisal but she doesn’t know why. There were barely any points to pick at about her performance so why exactly does Mrs. Kim look dissatisfied the moment she steps into her cubicle?

“How long do you plan on staying in this company?”

“…I’m not sure.”

“Mrs. Bang said you’re exceptionally loyal to this company. Is that true? You work overtime, you even work harder than your subordinates—Who exactly are you planning on impressing by working like this?”

“I don’t intend to impress anyone, Mrs. Kim. If I’m leading this team, doesn’t it make sense that I do the most work?”

“Are you expecting a promotion?”

“Well… My performance has been pretty good this year, so I think it’s safe to assume that.”

“And after that?”

“After…?”

“You’ll get a promotion this year, work even harder next year because you want to get promoted again. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll end up being promoted next year too—Then, after that? You’ll repeat the same thing—hoping for another promotion, hoping to get closer to the top based on your hard work alone. That’s how they’ll lure you in into working here until it’s too late. How many years do you think you’ll waste like this?”

“I’ll be satisfied with what I have. I don’t really plan on trying to _get closer to the top._ I don’t understand why…”

You’re so concerned about what I do with my life. She doesn’t say it, because why would she? “You just want a comfortable life, don’t you?”

Minjoo puts the pen she was writing with down and looks at her. She really looks like a businesswoman. Wow. She really looks like her boss at the moment. The black hair tied in a ponytail reminds her of her dream and her face starts to heat up for no reason. The woman raises a brow, expecting an answer. Chaewon feigns a cough. 

“I suppose.”

“You’ll never be happy trying to chase a comfortable life, Chaewon. What’s the fun in a comfortable life, why would you want to settle for a life that doesn’t challenge you at all? You don’t seem competitive, you’re—really, passive.”

Competitive for what? The world is not fair to people like her. It’s stupid to dream silly dreams of her getting whatever she wants from this life, because it’s plain ignorance to think that way. Those who are in power remain in power. Those who are rich remain rich. Those who are in the middle, like Kim Chaewon, will always be in this median with no hopes to reach for the stars above. 

It’s not passivity. It’s years of swallowing each desire down or getting each desire crushed that she won’t be greedy for anything more. Why would she want to challenge herself when she just needs to get by each day? 

Maybe the frown on her face deepens. 

“Are you going to waste your talent in a company that’s not enough for you? Isn’t that why you work so much, because you want that measly sense of accomplishment that you’ve worked harder than anyone else? You clearly want more than this. Why do you act like you don’t?”

Chaewon wonders if she’s that transparent. Or maybe it’s just like that when it comes to Minjoo. Minjoo can probably see through anyone. It’s no wonder she can see through Chaewon.

Greed. 

Avarice. 

All those desires erased from her mind years ago. 

The way Mrs. Kim speaks is provoking. All those desires rising up her throat. 

More than this. _Do you want it, do you not?_

“Frankly, I don’t think any of this is your business, Mrs. Kim.”

Discomfort pervades in Chaewon’s chest. 

Because the truth leaves an unpleasant taste on her tongue? Because she hates the feeling of an optimistic future, one better than what she has in mind? Because Minjoo has no reason to question her about this and yet she still does? Because it feels like Minjoo cares? Why do these waves crash on her shoulders?

Why does she feel like she’s being swept away? 

She doesn’t get to see how she reacts because her head rolls to keep—what? Anger? Irritation? Frustration?—to keep it all under the seams. These emotions seem to ignite after many a season. Burning brighter than before. Her head rolls again. Why do these emotions rise up? 

“You still get angry the same way.”

When her eyes focus on Minjoo again, she’s back to scribbling down sentences with her pen, her expression stays neutral, as always. Chaewon’s fists threaten to ball at the statement but that would just be proving the woman right. “You can leave.”

  
  


Chaeyeon breaks into a run when she sees the elevator doors closing, not wanting to wait for it to come back to their floor. 

Chaewon might change her mind about getting off early and hearing her idea out in those few seconds waiting, who knows. “Why are you in such a hurry?” Chaewon seethes. Her hand stops blocking the door and she smiles sheepishly. Mrs. Kim stands up straighter at their sight. The woman breaks into a fit of coughs and Chaeyeon frowns—that’s why she must be getting off early too. She must be sick. She can tell that she’s trying to be quiet with each cough and it makes her sad that Mrs. Kim feels the need to be considerate of them. “Mrs. Kim, are you not feeling well? Did you take any medicine? Chae, don’t you carry cough drops with you? Do you have any?”

Chaewon gives her a look as if telling her not to be so up in other people’s business. Well, it’s Mrs. Kim. Of course she’s going to be in her business. With an exhale, Chaewon reaches into the side of her bag and pulls out two lozenges. She smiles at her, and it feels nice that Mrs. Kim’s smile is the last thing she sees at work today.

Minjoo thinks that evenings like this are what make the months of winter bearable. It’s only starting to get colder, the sun dyes the sky pink and white as it sets. Her vision in pink. In pink, watching as the two women walk further away from her. Lee Chaeyeon is timidly scratching the back of her ear as Chaewon seems to be telling her off. In pink, staring at right angled shoulders, the back of her shirt with no creases until she disappears from her sight. 

Honey.

The sweet taste of honey and ginger spreading in her mouth.

-

“I think she’s genuinely sorry, Chae… I don’t know. I have a feeling it’ll be better this time.”

Chaeyeon doesn’t know what love is. Obviously. 

“It’s all… It’s all fake. When are you going to get that through your head? She’s probably longing for something solid again. You know, someone to come home to. Then she’ll get tired of that pretty soon, and she’ll cheat on you again. Don’t fall for this fleeting emotion.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m telling you for real. If you get back with her all your dreams are going to shit, okay?”

“But I think… she really loves me. We thought we were meant for each other. If she’s not my soulmate I don’t know who else is…”

“That’s not love, Chaeyeon. If it was, then why would she cheat on you?”

“Then what is love, Chaewon? Why would you know what it is any more than I do?”

She’s right. Why would she know any more than what Chaeyeon knows? How would she know if the abstraction that Chaeyeon and her ex used to feel for each other was love? “Do you still love her?”

“Of course, I….”

All love is different. Differing from person to person. Or rather, each person has an innate ability to evoke a different love in one given person. Kim Chaewon has loved, has been loved, and no love has felt the same. “Do you love her or is it just because you think she almost ruined your life and maybe if she dates you again things will go back to normal?”

“I love her, I do… I really loved her.”

Each person brings out a different depth of love. Maybe that’s more apt to say. “If she realized what she did was wrong… should I not be the bigger person and forgive her?”

“Does forgiving her mean dating her again?”

“No, but. She knows that she shouldn’t have let me go now. Won’t she be more… I dunno, careful this time around?”

“...Do you think that things will be just like they were again? That you won’t feel insecure about her cheating again? That she’ll reassure you every time you feel insecure?”

“Things will be different, obviously. I… need someone. We’ve already been together so she knows me. She knows how to be with me.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she cheated on you… well, if you’re really sure about it, then I guess you should just do whatever you want. All these months were spent getting over her but you want to run back into her arms…”

“Because it’s love.”

Chaewon sighs. “Just think it through until you make any decisions, okay? Like long-term thinking.”

Love over comfort. Comfort over love. Sometimes love is not enough. Two people need more than that to be together. 

  
  


“Why aren’t you two working?” Juyeon slides in the space between their desks and frowns. “Wang is being more of an asshole today than usual. I think he’s gonna explode at someone in the meeting.”

“—Not Taeri, though. Has anyone noticed him softening when it comes to her or is it just me?”

“No, you’re right. He’s being a little too… honestly, a little too desperate. Ever since he broke up with Ms. Korea he’s been so… I think he’s having a midlife crisis.”

“They broke up?” Chaewon lips stretch into a smile and she raises her brows at Chaeyeon. “See? I was right.”

“Whatever. Also, I was kinda unsure, but I think I saw him leaving with Taeri the other day… damn, he moves fast, huh?” 

“It’s not only Taeri he’s partial to—! He’s all soft with Sangtae because he’s his rich uncle’s grandson or something,”

“Oh and—Mrs. Bang—Mrs. Bang has her favourites, too. Choi Hanbin, Kang Sooyoung, Kim Hyunsoo...—I don’t think Mrs. Kim has any favourites, does she? She’s nice to everyone,” It sounds like a dreamy sigh at the end of his sentence. Everyone knows. The entire office loves Mrs. Kim because Mrs. Kim is such a lovely person. Mrs. Kim who looks irresistibly chic with an expressionless face, Mrs. Kim’s smile that feels a bit more special to the person on the receiving end. Mrs. Kim looks like she belongs on the silver screen instead of this measly office. 

Nice and polite. Pure, fragile. Chaewon can’t tell if she’s putting up an act or if she’s being genuine. Minjoo is soft-spoken yet firm when she speaks and something about that is so enticing, the way she carries herself with immense dignity. Everyone in the office loves Mrs. Kim. 

“No,” Chaeyeon starts, frowning as she looks at Juyeon, “She is nice to everybody, but she likes Chaewon the most.” 

Chaewon scoffs. She laughs. A scoff and laugh because it doesn’t even make sense. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not—! She’s _only_ nice to everybody and I dunno, it’s different when it comes to you.”

“She’s nice to me too.”

“Yeah, but I mean—I just think she… drops the pretense when you’re around—” she looks at the woman with absurdity and heaves a sigh, “—What! You know how rich people have a fake smile they keep on all the time? While the rest of us get that, it’s different for you. I gotta say, I’m kind of jealous…”

“Mrs. Kim is hardworking so she probably likes hardworking people too…” Juyeon adds. She rolls her eyes, laughing the topic away. 

Mr. Wang does end up exploding at someone but he keeps it under the wraps (because Taeri’s there? Or because Mrs. Kim is there? Or because Mrs. Bang is there? Because he wants to impress someone somehow? No one can tell,) and Chaewon has to propose her proposal in the aftermath of his outburst, hoping to bring the tension of the meeting down. When she’s done, they meet eyes. It’s not on purpose nor is it coincidental. She just looks everyone in the eyes because it’s work ethic. 

So, naturally, she looks at Minjoo. Minjoo is looking at her. Naturally. Smiling at her. _It’s different when it comes to you,_ Chaeyeon’s voice ringing in her ears. Mrs. Kim’s — _Minjoo’s_ dimples that deepened most at her sight, all those years ago. She can make out their outline. Chaewon holds the gaze for a second longer. _Is it really different?_ The curve of her smile, rising to geometric perfection. Her eyes conveying what emotion she doesn’t know, but it’s the right emotion. It just is. 

Is it really different?

With no reference, she can’t tell. So for the rest of the meeting, she tries to catch a glimpse of Mrs. Kim smiling at someone else. Mrs. Kim has really nice features. Flawless skin, big eyes, high cheekbones, sloped nose, defined jawline; Minjoo seems to have all the features of conventional beauty. She really thought Minjoo was a brunette all these years, but she looks good with darker hair too. 

Similar thoughts flow through her mind, and it’s more like she’s just staring at the woman and thinking of her instead of comparing how she smiles at anyone else except Chaewon. 

Maybe it’s true. Maybe the smile she gets is a little different. Maybe she's the only one who gets a smile at all because it seems like Mrs. Kim doesn't smile in meetings that much. Minjoo smiles at her, though. Maybe her maybes are true. 

(Maybe she hopes her maybes are true, but that is a secret only the depths of her heart can tell.)

Meeting eyes again, Chaewon looks away abruptly. 

Mrs. Kim is smiling.

Minjoo is smiling.

The side profile burns in her mind.

Maybe she continues to look at her, maybe.

Maybe. 

-

Important meetings are held on floor 7, two floors above. Kim Chaewon comes to work earlier because today, there’s a meeting with the client face to face and she can’t afford to mess up. Two floors higher, the air feels heavier. Pressure in her ears, on her shoulders. It keeps her present: rooted to the ground. 

Chaewon knows it’s an important meeting and she knows the project is a big deal for the company but she didn’t think it would demand the presence of their boss’ bosses as well—Mrs. Bang and—her husband, she supposes—seem to be shocked at her presence when they enter the conference room but she quickly veils it with a smile, asking when the whole team would get here. Mrs. Kim arrives not long after, and Chaewon doesn’t know if the woman was as shocked as Mrs. Bang was: she doesn’t check who enters the room after the knock, because the sound of those high heels clicking against the floor is all too familiar. 

The reasons why she stays in the conference room are simple. She needs to make sure her presentation is perfect, reviewing the team’s work just in case, doing last-minute changes to the data Im Jimin sent, all these acts repeated until the meeting starts. She doesn’t know why Mrs. Kim remains, though. Vague thoughts of the Hwang’s business having something to do with their counterparts in Taiwan come to mind. It must be really important for the CEO’s wife to be preparing for the meeting beforehand—or maybe it’s just Minjoo’s work ethic. Mrs. Bang wasn’t here, anyway. Nor were any of the other expensive suits and Rolexes. 

She wonders when Chaeyeon will come. It was still early in the morning, so maybe it’d take half an hour. 

“Chaewon,”

There’s no uncertainty of _Won_ or _Yeon_ anymore. Chaewon doesn’t assume _Chae_ will be followed by _Yeon_ anymore. Looking up, she sees Minjoo seated to the right of the centre, as if mentally preparing for where she’ll be seated as well. Minjoo asks about the new software the company ordered them to use about a week ago. She’s never used it before, so Chaewon is coerced by the moment to be seated in the centre. Lines of chairs by her side, Mrs. Kim to her right. A mindless explanation fills the room, her tone is the same as when she was explaining to Ahn Yujin what Mr. Wang explained to her. But she notices Minjoo frowning halfway through her recital of repeated words and pauses. “Sorry, I’m—I’m a little out of it today. Would you mind starting from the top?”

Of course.

So her words are slower, thought out. Stopping her explanation after each section, looking into her eyes to make sure she understands. It’s easy to tell when Mrs. Kim doesn’t get her. The middle of her brows rise slightly, the black—no, deep brown eyes unclear. Every time that happens, Chaewon smiles, slightly, and repeats the sentences again. Mrs. Kim is embarrassed that someone has to explain how to use the new software to her, the exposed right ear revealing it all in its ruby redness. 

“It is kinda complex, but it’s more efficient than the last software so they keep pushing us to use it. Half of the team still hasn’t got the hang of it yet though,”

She laughs at the end of the sentence, just because. No meaning to it. Minjoo smiles, Chaewon’s hands move the woman’s laptop back to her. 

Changes are not the waves crashing on the shore, changes are not thunderclouds lashing out at once. Changes are both at once, water rippling, both in the same place and moving outward, harmonically. She’s so close, when did they get so close? She can almost count the stray black strands framing the woman’s face. Mrs. Kim is beautiful. Minjoo is beautiful. She always has been. So lovely. A middle finger’s distance away. No, closer than that.

A ring finger’s distance away. 

The cold of the early morning disappears once hot breath hits her lips. 

A ring’s distance away. Visions of white, silver rings, red and pink on her lips. Closer, their faces get closer.

  
  
  


**[**

And all of a sudden, you’re 21 years old again.

You spot Minjoo running out the university gates as someone calls her name repeatedly. _Ms. Kim, Ms. Kim._ Her driver—he leans back on the car that Minjoo passes by without second glance. Maybe your eyes deceive you, but it looked like she was crying. Hm.

Hyewon told you that Minjoo’s parents were more on the ‘protective’ side and you found it ironic because the girl clearly was the kind of person who didn’t want to be controlled. Pretty rich girls, they’re all the same, having everything they could possibly need at a snap of their fingers yet wanting more. _Wants_ over _needs._

You vowed you wouldn’t get caught up in anything you can’t handle—so you should just ignore the crying Kim Minjoo whose back looks pitiful as she disappears from your sight. But…

Should you call Hyewon? 

Would it be awkward?

You can’t just ignore her when she’s crying like that, can you? 

She’s not really a fast runner, so you catch up with her in a few long strides. “Minjoo…?”

The name is unfamiliar on your tongue. You’re pretty sure you can count all the times you spoke to her one on hand and all the times you saw her on two. She likes throwing parties and Hyewon likes taking you to them. There’s a clear distinction between the way she acts in public and behind closed doors and something about that temperature difference is… charming. When she speaks to you, her voice is haughty and her eyes seem to be challenging you, but you ignore all that because she’s pretty rich Kim Minjoo. Disguised as sweet temptation. 

She looks at you in surprise, quickly wipes away her tears and tries to regain composure. She can’t, and you think it’s a little cute. The red nose and uncontrollable whimpers. 

What should you do, really? You’re not good at comforting people—her shoulders still shake, sobs on the verge of causing her hiccups. 

A hesitant pat on her back and all of a sudden she’s leaning into your body so you settle for a one-sided hug. Your hand falls into a rhythm of consoling and she starts to calm down. Minjoo isn’t embarrassed by the sudden skinship like you are. The redness of her face fades, only glassy eyes remain when she pulls away. 

You walk down the sidewalk aimlessly for a while. 

Minjoo keeps bumping into people and it seems like she isn’t used to the bustling streets of the city in the evenings. You direct her to a secluded path. 

She’s still upset. She wipes tears away when you aren’t looking and she can’t stop the sniffles that keep rising up. You can see creases on her face even in the poor streetlights. As you cross a food truck or whatever, you offer to buy her something. Food is the best way to comfort someone, right? You’re not sure, but she agrees and you find out about her obsessive love for cheese. She frowns when you laugh as she ties her hair back because the big ears clearly red are on full display and she looks cute, the heiress of the Kim Corporation or whichever company her father is the head of. 

Whatever. 

She’s just Kim Minjoo now, walking in the darkness of the night with you.

“Do you feel better?”

You break the silence and she brings her gaze from the ground to your face. 

“Yeah.”

“But why did you come after me, though? You didn’t need to.”

Haughtiness in her voice. Challenging eyes. They bring back the Kim Minjoo you know, the Kim Minjoo you’re used to. It’s amusing. The temperature difference. The corners of your mouth rise.

“I did it because I wanted to.”

Your footsteps halt when she stops at a corner of the street. She stands there unmoving, staring at you for a while. You get closer. Closer, your faces get closer. Your eyes flutter shut. Her breath is hot against your lips.

Her lips are as soft as you imagined them to be. Her hands are warm as she cups your face. You can’t even think of the consequences of your actions because your lungs seem to fill with vanilla, your thoughts seem to evaporate. 

When she pulls away, a slight smile blooms on her lips. You don’t have any words, so you look into her eyes. _Why?_

“Because I wanted to,” She’s so close. You feel your heart rising in your throat. A look you’ve never seen in Minjoo’s eyes. No, she always looks at you like this. You just ignore it every time. Her fingers are gentle under your chin. Beckoning you to keep looking at her.

“Chaewon,”

“I want you.”

(And like that, your first kiss with Kim Minjoo doesn’t end with a kiss.)

**]**

  
  
  


A knock on the door forces her to move away. Chaewon lets out a deep breath against her own will. She goes back to her place. It’s not in the centre. It’s not beside Minjoo. Not even beside Mrs. Kim. _Remember where your place is._ She doesn’t belong there. 

It’s somewhere on the side. It is, she knows, but unwanted desires keep igniting in her chest. 

You should be in the centre. 

She should be by your side.

It should be like that.

But the meeting starts and she has to drag herself down to reality.

  
  


####  _Scene 8 9_

  
  
  


Minjoo’s favourite holiday is Christmas. The entire country’s in a festive mood. Christmas carols are playing wherever she goes, Christmas trees are at every corner of the street and she’ll get to throw a nice little Christmas party at home on Christmas day. Everyone loves Christmas, don’t they?

So why on earth do they want her to come to work on the 25th? Why does this office not have a holiday on Christmas? Can’t they afford just _one_ day off? Well—she’s the CEO’s wife, after all. If she doesn’t want to go then she doesn’t have to. Minjoo smiles politely at Mr. Wang (even after his countless pleads to call him by his first name, she will not) to decline but panic settles on his face. 

“But—! Mrs. Kim, we have a little Christmas tradition! We play Secret Santa every year and I would love for you to have good memories of this office. Please, I’m sure the whole team would love if you joined this year. We can even get some eggnog, Christmas cookies, and um, cake…? If you’d like! I was thinking of getting a Christmas tree too, wouldn’t it—”

“I think a Christmas tree would be going a little too far, Mr. Wang. But there’s only a week left to the 25th. Isn’t the game started, I don’t know, at least 2 weeks prior? How can anyone decide what to get for someone they barely know in a week?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, Mrs. Kim. We’re all familiar with each other in the office. And if you don’t know what to get for someone, you can just ask me. I know everyone here like the back of my hand,”

He grins at her, the gelled hair shining under white lights. “I, I can make sure that whoever gets your name gets something you’d—”

“Oh, there’s no need for all that.”

Would it be that bad? People here seem to like her a lot, so she supposes it would be disappointing if she didn’t celebrate Christmas with the faces she’s seen every day for the past few weeks. She could leave early that day if it came to it. 

“Fine, count me in as well.”

It’s been years since she spent Christmas working—wait, has she ever spent Christmas working? Probably not. Well. There’s a first for everything, after all.

-

The universe must be playing a joke on her. It has to be because there’s no way this outcome emerged out of sheer chance. 

_Kim Chaewon._

In round letters, right at the centre of this little white strip in her hands. Kim Chaewon. In blue ink. A faint dot at the end of the last letter. Kim Chaewon. It’s Friday, so Kim Chaewon in slippers, black slacks, a white t-shirt covered by a black jacket. Kim Chaewon has long hair now, not how it was 6 years ago. The way it cascades down her shoulders is so—.

Let’s not go there.

Minjoo watches Chaewon raise her brows reading the name on the paper in her hands. Who could it be? The woman hides her paper away when Chaeyeon tries to peek over her shoulder. Maybe this is karma. Karma for what she doesn’t know, but that’s not the issue here. She has to give Chaewon something for Christmas, her favourite holiday. 

But what does Chaewon even like? 

She likes hoodies, probably, because every other Friday comes Kim Chaewon clad in her slippers and a new hoodie. She likes scrunchies, maybe, because most weekdays are spent with her hair tied up, adorned by a different one each day. She likes teasing other people because her smile is brightest when Chaeyeon exasperates at her in the elevator. She likes being on time, she likes working hard. She likes praise because every time Jang Wonyoung expresses her amazement at how good she is at troubleshooting mistakes her ears turn red and her tone rises an octave. 

She doesn’t like the cold. She hates when things don’t go the way they’re supposed to. She’s most annoyed when the team doesn’t finish all their work by the end of the day, she doesn’t like wearing her identity card around her neck. 

_She liked her,_ ——but none of that really helps now. 

-

Okay, so Chaewon likes travelling…? At least that’s what she inferred from overhearing her conversation with Mr. Wang, applying for a leave on New Year’s day—she can’t believe they have to work on New Year’s too—applying for a leave to travel to—?

Taiwan. So she likes Taiwan?

Why?

“Chae, I told you to be free on New Year’s. You should’ve given me a head’s up.”

“Why would you think I’d spend New Year’s with you?”

Minjoo sees Chaeyeon frown as she enters the elevator. 

“But you’re supposed to start new things when the year starts. C’mon, we’ll just keep delaying talking about it. Do you want this business to succeed or not?”

“Oh, whatever. It’ll be fine. If you don’t want to spend the night alone then just go home. I’m sure they’ll welcome you.”

“You could’ve just told me you were going to see your girlfriend, though. Why be vague and say _you’re travelling?_ Like who even travels on New Year’s day?”

Oh. 

So she likes her girlfriend. Of course she does. 

“...—you, Mrs. Kim?”

Chaeyeon pauses. Minjoo shakes her head with a smile.

“Sorry? You were saying?”

“I was wondering how your Secret Santa thing is going, do you have any guesses on who it might be?”

“Oh, I haven’t really paid attention to all that… but I have a feeling it might be Jinwook, though.”

“Why?”

They’re on the ground floor already, but Chaewon keeps the doors open with a palm and asks. 

She’s been pretending that nothing’s happened between them and Chaewon followed, naturally. 

But it feels like it’s reaching the tipping point. Pretending to be ignorant comes with a price. Pretending like nothing is building between the two of them. How long until; will it collapse? Does she want it to? 

“Just because… he kept asking what I’m interested in and all.” 

“Oh.” 

Chaeyeon bids her a good evening and drags Chaewon away from her frozen spot beside her. 

So Kim Chaewon is travelling to Taiwan on New Year's day to see her girlfriend. Minjoo isn’t sure what she should do with that information because it doesn’t help at all. 

Instead, it’s annoying, it’s detrimental, it’s annoying that she thinks it’s detrimental. 

_How long until you give into this tension?_

Somehow, it’s all Kim Chaewon’s fault.

-

  
  


Minjoo’s favourite holiday is Christmas. 

Her husband knows. But coming to her office just to give her her Christmas present _is_ going a little over the top, to be honest. Maybe he just wants people to know that the CEO of their company, Hwang Hyunjin, does indeed exist and he loves his wife so much that he came to see her at work on her favourite holiday. 

He didn’t stay long, anyway. He stayed long enough to get people talking. 

Minjoo doesn’t really care about what people think of their relationship because she knows they’re happy but now, she wishes he didn’t come at all. 

Since there’s no Christmas tree, the presents are lined up on a table. Each addressed to one person. She tries to figure out where her present is but to no avail. What if she gets nothing for Christmas? That would be disheartening, don’t the people in the office like her? 

“I feel bad for whoever got Mrs. Kim, though. How can anyone top her husband’s gift?”

Hyunjin knows she likes watches so she gets a new watch for Christmas. It glimmers on her wrist because he insisted that she wear it in front of him. She really wishes he didn’t come at all, because her intuition is telling her that the universe is playing a joke on Chaewon as well. Meaning Chaewon would compare herself to him even if she didn’t want to and that would lead to Minjoo comparing Chaewon to him and those are not thoughts she wants to think of on her favourite holiday.

Unfortunately, Minjoo’s intuition never fails her. They leave her gift for the last and she can see the anxiety grow on Chaewon’s face. Fate. Destiny. Karma. A joke.

It’s ridiculous. 

It’s awkward when people realize they’re the only ones who haven’t exchanged gifts yet so they must’ve gotten each other and Chaeyeon exclaims it’s a coincidence too good to be true causing Chaewon’s ears to go red. She’s embarrassed. Minjoo got her a hoodie because a week of overthinking didn’t amount to any good ideas. She doesn’t get to see Chaewon’s reaction, rushed into opening her own present. 

Minjoo chuckles. Chaewon is ridiculous. 

A Christmas chocolate box is what she gets for Christmas. “Uh, I had to open it to take all the mint chocolates out… And—, the other ones—those were the only ones I had at the moment… so…”

The woman takes a look at the watch on her wrist and seems to falter. 

“I love it. Thanks, Chaewon.”

Mr. Wang starts playing Christmas carols. Chaewon is dragged away by Chaeyeon because Mr. Wang wants them to be good team leaders and distribute the cake (but cake isn’t even christmassy) to the team. 

_‘See? I told you her smile is different with you.’_

Lee Chaeyeon should learn how to be quieter. 

Minjoo moves to the corner of the room to see the cake being cut in disproportionate sizes, clearly, these two know nothing about hosting parties the way she does. A sheepish smile and the knife is handed over to her. 

Equal slices. Chaeyeon is a good team leader, distributing them to the team. Is Chaewon not? 

She waits until the last cut is done.

“Thank you, Minjoo. You got my style down completely,” A breathy laugh. She stares down at the bag in her hands. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Chaewon is smiling at you, looking into your eyes. 

The way her hair cascades down her shoulders is so beautiful. She’s so beautiful. Her bangs reach just below her brows, why do you want to sweep them to the side so you get a better look into her eyes—her eyes holding the universe. All the stars shining, endless creation and destruction repeating again, and again, and again. The tiny scar at the top of her lip is sunrise, sunset, streaks in the sky, scattered galaxies in vast nothingness. No, her eyes holding more than the universe—this warmth, vast nothingness could never match the warmth in her eyes. 

Beauty. Chaewon is breathtaking. Looking at her hurts, your heart hurts, you relish in this pain because it’s her beauty poisoning your heart. 

You almost forget to catch your breath. You bite your lips, hoping to hide your dimples from showing. 

“Merry Christmas.”

It’s a chocolate cake with a hint of strawberry in it. There’s only one slice left. Chaewon insists Minjoo has it, but Minjoo doesn’t listen. Maybe it’s because the festive spirit possesses her for a moment. It’s her favourite holiday, after all. Christmas is all about spreading joy. So, with ease, she cuts through velvet layers, her hand stops in front of ruby lips, her mind is blank. Out of impulse. No thoughts are put to her actions.

Chaewon looks down at the fork with doubt, but she doesn’t waver. It feels like everything else disappears, really. Office, co-workers, shiny watches, trips to Taiwan. Everything else disappears.

Only sweetness fills her senses, spreading in her mouth.

She will admit she smiles a little differently at her, though. Only because she’s Kim Chaewon. She smiles, leaving the utensil in the woman’s mouth, unable to hold her gaze, walking away. Waiting and waiting one more countless time for her feverish heart to calm again.

-

  
  


Not the universe, but Kim Chaewon is playing a joke on her.

Minjoo hates mint chocolate. 

Eight chocolates are replaced by different ones—she knows, because the ones that replaced the mint chocolates aren’t on the back of the box. Kim Chaewon is ridiculous. Eight hearts take their place and Minjoo can’t tell if Chaewon is simply naive. Eight chocolate hearts are scattered, here and there. Kim Chaewon is absurd. Kim Chaewon is a bit of an idiot who can’t do anything for herself, a bit indecisive and easily swayed. So it must be that she’s just naive.

Minjoo shouldn’t give meaning to meaningless things. 

It doesn’t mean anything. She shouldn’t have even thought it would mean something. But Kim Minjoo is a bit of an idiot and easily swayed too—and the chocolate is just so sweet—that she can’t help the butterflies filling her chest, she can’t help the feeling that comes with her imagination. Imagining that there is meaning, imagining that Kim Chaewon knows exactly what she’s doing. Just Kim Chaewon, really, her heart flutters for no reason. 

You need to keep it from collapsing. You need to be rational—, but it’s your favourite holiday. 

Ignorance is overbearing. 

Denial is exhausting. 

Don’t you get to indulge in these thoughts for once, at least on Christmas day?

  
  


####  _Scene 10._

  
  


January is an ambiguous month. 

It’s much colder at the start of the year than it is at the end. Since it’s colder, Chaewon wears two pairs of socks to bed instead of one. It doesn’t help much. Because January is ambiguous. For some reason, it gets hot in the middle of the night so she takes both pairs of socks off—but morning comes, it’s cold again, she holds her feet with an unpleasant expression because what was the point of putting the socks on if she was going to take them off in the night and what was the point of taking them off if she was going to wake up to cold toes again. The start of the year isn’t exciting anymore. Cold comes and goes, ambiguously. 

Her eyes stay closed, raising a brow at the sounds forcing her awake. 

It’s raining. Winter rain. January rain.

In attempts to find an umbrella, she raids the dusty cupboard in the corner of her room—only after staring at her car keys for a solid ten minutes. A flimsy black umbrella in her hands as she waits at the bus stop. It feels colder because of the rain, the cold stays branded on her cheeks and the tips of her ears. She can feel it down to her toes, still. Strange weather. The sound of the rain resonates within the bus. Almost as if it were falling on her own shoulders.

She’s late. She’s pretty sure she won’t get into any trouble, though. The project is coming to an end, so Mr. Wang doesn’t have a stick up his ass anymore—or maybe it’s because he has something going on with Lee Taeri, she doesn’t know. The project is coming to an end. Spring will soon bloom in her chest again. The cold will leave her being, at last.

Melancholy blooms instead, no matter how hard she tries for it not to. Maybe that’s just the way some things are. Some feelings just can’t be escaped.

No Maseratis pull in when she gets to work. In its place, there’s another expensive car she hasn’t seen before. Oh, did Mrs. Kim get a new car? A red Audi doesn’t seem to fit her taste, though. 

There’s a buzz in the office, fitting perfectly with the dull gray sky outside, murmurs washing out the sound of raindrops. Ten steps to reach her station. Everyone around her is excited with a tension only she seems to lack. 

“What’s going on?”

“Apparently, it’s Mrs. Kim’s wedding anniversary. Sooyoung said she saw her and her husband come up together.”

Chaeyeon pauses for a moment to look at her. “Isn’t that so sweet? I thought all these rich couples were unhappy and just faking it for the public but they seem to really love each other. And everyone was trying to flirt with Mrs. Kim—I guess all those attempts are in vain now,

“And you’re late. You’re lucky Wang is busy kissing up to the CEO, he was super pissed that Hyunsoo was late like twenty minutes ago.”

The weather is strange, no? Because the weather is strange, because it’s too cold, her chest starts to ache—her heart—her heart hurts, because it’s raining in January. Raindrops lashing out on her. Her heart hurts. Hailstones rising up her throat. Freezing her thoughts. Throbbing in her chest. How stupid of her to feel these silly little feelings. How fucking foolish. 

What is this dual state of mind? Why does she not want to admit it was anything, why does she hope that it was something? Why does she want to think her smiles were just out of kindness, why does she want to think they were out of something more? Why? Why does it crush her soul? Why can’t she feel the way she wants to feel? Why can't she tell what is real? 

It was something, wasn’t it? 

Was it just a fever dream only she could see?

Why does it rain? Why is it cold the way it is? 

Why does winter breathe into her being? 

Why did Kim Minjoo have to come into her life again, bringing all these unwanted feelings?

(Why can you never have what you want?)

January is ambiguous.

January is ambitious. New Year’s resolutions are full of ambition and drive. Chaewon doesn’t really like the whole concept of resolutions, but she can understand why the first month is ambitious. The start of something new always feels promising. Good things are started at the start of a new year with hope. That it’ll bear fruition. That it’ll make life better somehow. That’s the point of resolutions. Good things start with the new year. 

Mr. Wang sneers when she enters his office. The stick is still up his ass, so it seems. “Why bother coming at all, Manager Kim. You could’ve just stayed home, it's raining and all.” She bows her head, mumbling an apology. “Well, whatever. Mrs. Kim says she left her bag in her cubicle, could you go give it to her? Think of it as your… penalty for being late.”

Dismissing her with a wave of his phone. _And be quick!_

The cubicle that used to be hers. 

Kim Minjoo that was never hers. 

Good things start with the new year, likewise, bad things should end with the new year. Meaningless things end with the start of a new year. 

Whatever it is—was—with Kim Minjoo should end in January. It is—was—meaningless. She was just feeling lonely the past few months—she was just, just tired of life—she needed something new, just to keep her occupied. Or it was just her being guilty for hurting Minjoo in the past and everything she did was because she needed to clear her conscience, yeah. It was meaningless. Every smile. Every time she called her name. Every late night spent working, ten feet away from each other. Every gaze shared meant nothing. The feelings she roused after years of dormancy were counterfeit. It was an illusion. It was nothing. Minjoo, she isn’t anything to her. Yeah.

But no, actually, that’s all bullshit. 

Red Audis instead of white Maseratis. 

Chaewon can’t see him. Whether he can see her or not, she can only guess. But whatever. He probably wouldn’t remember her, anyway. What matters is if Minjoo can see her or not—no, if she can see Minjoo or not.

She knocks on the window pane. Minjoo turns away from him, she keeps her eyes focused on her bag until. Until she sees Chaewon standing in the rain, droplets on her forearm. Seeping through her clothes. Dripping from her bangs, not meeting her gaze. Chaewon tries not to look at her, but Chaewon is an idiot with a weak heart. Eyes so brown that they look black. 

It’s all bullshit because when she looks at Minjoo she knows. It wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t meaningless. She wasn’t feeling lonely, tired of life, guilty, anything. It was anything but an illusion—It was, It was—. 

It’s bullshit because she can see the heartbreak in Minjoo’s eyes just because she looks so heartbroken. Watching as the smile on her face drops instantaneously. Wanting to look away, but just staring. Winter rain falling on her shoulders. Hailstones, hailstones crash down. 

Chaewon is abrupt when she looks away. Minjoo is forced out of her stupor. Thanking her before driving off. Leaving her in the rain.

-

Grief quickly evaporates from Chaewon’s mind, as all other emotions do.

There’s no point in sulking every waking minute of the day. She couldn’t even finish one bottle of lemon juice because the pain was too much. One day of emotional overload is enough. 

The next morning, her car keys are in her hand. The keychain is the same as it was 7 years ago, a circular pendant marked with her initials. _KCW._ The _KCW_ is fading. Maybe she needs to engrave it again. Maybe change the keychain. Maybe get a new car. Anyway.

Her car still works and she can still drive, of course. She has to drive to her parents’ house once every two months so it’s not that it’s an old dusty mess. It’s just a bit out of fashion. Doesn’t fit in with the cars she sees at work.

Emotional overload is exhausting. She’s reached the tipping point. If Hwang Hyunjin can bring his expensive car to a place that he doesn’t even work at then she can certainly bring her own car to her own office. Riding the bus in this state would just wear her out more. It’s cold because it’s raining and she doesn’t want another day of walking in the rain as raindrops pellet her umbrella.

Anymore than this and she’ll collapse. 

So, walking one floor down, the keychain rotates around her index finger. The elevator comes to the third floor, and her car lights up with joy to be taken to work for the first time in a very long time. 

It’s gratifying to be in the warm and dry space of her car as the rain outside intensifies. On her way to work, the sight of the bus stand is amusing. She parks next to Chaeyeon’s usual spot. Her car stands out like a sore thumb from the rest but she doesn’t really give a fuck.

Is there a white Maserati in the place it should be? 

Probably not. Probably not, because Mrs. Kim and Mr. Hwang are standing in front of the elevator. They say their goodbyes for a minute longer than necessary and Chaewon feels irritation rise to her brow. Minjoo looks embarrassed when she approaches. Unwanted emotions, flowing through her veins, slowly starting to get more comfortable. 

“Chaewon,—”

“—Yes?”

Jealous for nothing. Chaewon doesn’t know if she’s the possessive type or not, and honestly, these emotions that arise because someone takes what’s supposed to be hers are worthless — Minjoo is not even hers, so the jealousy—possessiveness—envy—, whatever it is—rising up just shows a more ugly part of her personality but she can’t help it. Some things never change. It’s as simple as that. 

Minjoo frowns at the inflection of her voice. 

No words follow, not that she expected any to anyway.

The day starts and ends, Kim Minjoo, Kim Minjoo. When Chaeyeon tells what they need to be doing within the next four months all her thoughts are Kim Minjoo. _My father agreed to help out in the start, we just need to impress him._ Great. It’d be nice if Chaeyeon’s family had ties with the Hwangs and Kims. She’d get to see Minjoo even after this project, then. _But we need to work super hard if we want to get anywhere in a year._

Of course. If there’s anything Kim Chaewon is good at then it’s working hard. That’s why most of her day is spent at work instead, it’s easy to lose track of time. The day ends with Kim Minjoo. 

It must be fate. Every death and rebirth is spent thinking of Kim Minjoo, something like that. Lovers across lives and deaths, until the end of everything there is. It must be destiny. No?

Minjoo is working late, again. It’s either fate that they always end up working late on together or it’s done with deeper intentions, she would rather not know. Minjoo turns off the lights as she waits, alone, in the elevator. 

“Sorry,” Chaewon breathes. 

“...Why?”

“I don’t know. Felt like I needed to say it.”

“No, I, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know either.”

There is no white Maserati in the place it should be. 

There’s no red Audi either and the metal of her keys is cold on her palm. 

“How are you gonna get home?”

“Uh, I think a car will come to pick me up pretty soon.” But it’s January. It’s cold. 

“I could give you a lift. If you’re up for it, I mean.”

Minjoo giggles to herself at the sight of her car. The sound brings a smile to her face but she tugs her lips down to keep it from spreading. 

Her brows furrow to maintain a forced frown. 

Automatic cars are the standard these days, but Chaewon’s car is 7 years old. Still with a gear shift. A warm hand is under hers when she tries to shift gears, she retracts in surprise. Only for a moment. Mrs. Kim, Minjoo faces the window with her eyes closed, the other hand covers her mouth but Chaewon can see the woman biting her lips. Sighing inaudibly, not daring to look at her. The look on her face is melancholy.

Shifting gears. A warm hand is under her own the entire night. Not the entire night, only until Minjoo leaves. Leaving with a sharp inhale and no words as she slams the door shut. Leaving without ever turning back to look at her. 

The warmth of her hand stays the entire night. 

The entire night, even in the cold of her lonely apartment. 

  
  
  
  


―—*——

  
  
  
  
  
  


The best things always happen twice. 

They know.

Chaewon brings her car to work for the second day in a row, while Minjoo doesn’t.

No hands exchange heat like the night before. No, they don’t even travel the same path as they did the night before.

Chaewon isn’t sure if Minjoo notices she’s driving to her apartment but she probably does. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens with each minute. It feels like Minjoo is staring at her at times but she isn’t brave enough to confirm her suspicions. 

It’s not that late or cold. 

“Would you,” she stops at a sidewalk, trying to make sense of what she’s doing. “Like to…”

The woman meets her eyes for a brief moment. Looking at the finger that points upwards to her building. “Sure.”

“This isn’t—It doesn’t go all the way up to my floor,” 

Chaewon directs her to the stairwell, not looking back. The faint sound of Minjoo’s footsteps behind her fills the silence, dark hallways, cold granite. 

“You don’t have to—” take off your shoes, but she’s lining them up against the wall before she can even get her sentence out. 

Her ears heat up when Minjoo takes a look around her apartment. She doesn’t fit in with the drab interior, does she? No, she actually brings a shine to the dull lighting of her apartment, fitting in perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. Whatever, whatever it is that she wants to believe. All a matter of belief. 

“I was thinking of getting a new place soon, actually. It’s too cold here…” It’s embarrassing, so she moves to her refrigerator to take out a bottle of lemon juice. “Want anything?”

Minjoo leans forward onto the kitchen island, the look in her eyes is reminiscent of what it used to be in the past so Chaewon looks away. A soft shake of her head. She keeps her eyes closed attempting to down the bottle at once—partly because it’s so bitter and partly because she thinks Minjoo is looking at her—if she looked at Minjoo looking at her, she’d choke. Chaewon grimaces when the taste lingers on her tongue. “Ugh,”

“Why do you drink it if you hate it that much?”

Sourness haywires her mind. She has to blink twice before focusing on the woman again. “It’s good for your health.”

A lazy brow is raised in amusement. “Is it?”

“Yeah, the vitamin C must be doing _something,_ right? I dunno, keeping me hydrated? Getting rid of the toxins in the blood, something like that.”

“So you don’t know why you drink it either.”

Chaewon scoffs a laugh. “I—… I don’t, I guess. My mom just sends these every two weeks and I can’t let ‘em go to waste,”

My mom probably believes drinking it helps me somehow.

A matter of belief, isn’t it? Meaningless things can be given meaning through conviction. Minjoo laughs lightly, matching the not too cold night. “Do you really have an entire bottle every day?”

“Yeah. I’m used to it now, though.”

“You say that but you were frowning so hard a minute ago. I was worried your face’d stay like that forever,”

“Well, I think I’d look pretty good with a frown on all the time too.”

“Everyone looks better with a smile on their face.”

“Do they?” She grins. 

“Yeah.” The corners of her lips rise. 

Minjoo exhales briskly and looks away. This endless game of meeting eyes, breaking gazes. She can hear the waver in her breath as she inhales, “I—I should go.”

Rushed footsteps sound on her granite floor. “Minjoo, wait—!” 

“Why?”

Her shoulders seem to rise in indecisiveness. “Why should I wait?” And she turns to face her, creases on her beautiful countenance. It hurts. “Why do you want me to wait, Chaewon?”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Another round. Minjoo looks at her in surprise, but Chaewon doesn’t let her look away. Taking the woman’s hand into her own, she brings it to her cheek. “Don’t,”

All these emotions in Chaewon's eyes forcing her to keep her gaze. The skin under her hand is warm, she runs a thumb down her cheekbone against her own will. Heartbreaking.

“Because looking at you hurts, Chae.”

Everything about you hurts. Minjoo’s eyes that look into her own. Both of her palms are cold as they cup her face, taking in each inch as if they had all the time in the world. She brushes her bangs to the side. Hot breath mixes—closer, their faces get closer; 

But Minjoo’s hands slide from her face to her shoulders to hold her back. The crown of her head in front of Chaewon’s eyes, and Chaewon sighs. “You really love him after all.”

Kim Minjoo has loved, has been loved, and no love has felt the same. All love is different. 

Could this be? 

Could this be the best love story out of all love stories?

“If I kiss you,”

I know this love will be set ablaze. The best love story ever written.

“I know it won’t end with a kiss.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

She raises a brow at Chaewon’s intentions, unaware that they’re completely pure. “I don’t mean it like that, I mean—I’ll keep wanting to see you, I’ll keep wanting to… I can’t start something with you again, Chaewon.” Minjoo slides down with her back against the door, compelling Chaewon to the floor with her. “If it was six years ago, I would’ve given everything up to be with you. But things are different now. I’m not just Kim Minjoo anymore. My life is different, I have companies to look over, a reputation to maintain—I can’t afford,” 

Fingertips are under her chin. She takes in the red of Minjoo’s face, rosy pink swirling in the air. Her index finger grazes the scar on top of her lip, almost like she’s bewitched. “I can’t afford having an affair with a nobody like you.”

Chaewon laughs. She takes the hand tracing her features into her own, holding it close to her chest despite Minjoo's startled gaze. “Is that so.”

“And—… And he’s one of the most influential people in the country, eventually, he’d find out about it somehow and destroy your life. You know that.”

  
  


What is devotion but the purest form of love? What is love but an escape from the harsh realities of the world? Humanity is at its worst. The world seems to be in favour of those who are horrible people, but you shouldn’t worry because karma exists. You should live your life full of love and selflessness, full of devotion. 

If that is how you believe life should be lived, then nothing can stop you from living that way. We are all entitled to our own beliefs, we can only see the world through a permanent veil of finiteness. We are all entitled to our own worldview. We are bestowed only two eyes, five senses—what can be learnt about the world through these limits?

Chaewon believes in karma, selflessness, and devotion. Chaewon believes the world can be understood through these feelings, concepts, abstractions, even by just a little. Chaewon believes in love. 

What is love but liberation? What is the cycle of life and death but each day spent without love—devotion?

It’s naive and a bit foolish, but Chaewon believes in Kim Minjoo. Because she’s a bit of an idiot who can’t do anything for herself, a bit indecisive and easily swayed. Kim Minjoo makes her feel all these unwanted emotions to help her understand the world. 

“I’m gonna quit soon. Right after this project ends.”

“...What? Why? Did you get offered a better job?”

“No, Chaeyeon and I, we’re starting a company together. Did you know her family’s rich?”

Minjoo looks at her in disbelief and scoffs. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” she frowns, Minjoo scoffs again. “Are you insane? Why would you take that big of a risk at all? Do you even know how hard it is for startups to be successful? Everyone’s going to try and bring you down.”

“It won’t be like that. I told you—Chaeyeon’s family is super rich. Haven’t you heard of them before?”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s rich or not. Why are you… I don’t understand why you’d consider doing this in the first place.”

“I’m going to put my talent to good use, Mrs. Kim. You know, challenging myself and all.”

She’s not amused and that only makes it more amusing to Chaewon. “You can put your talent to good use in better companies than this one. And you don’t need to start a fucking company to challenge yourself, do you? What makes you think this will end up in anything but a mess?”

“I dunno, I just have a good feeling about it. I think we’ll go places because… just because.” 

The night is not too late, cold, the silence is not that deafening. The warmth of her, though. It stays the same.

“You should live a happy life, Chaewon. I want you to be happy. Will this really—”

“—I want to be with you, Minjoo.”

Oh, really. She’s such a cute person. Minjoo’s hands in hers contract and her face goes pink. “I know I can’t be with you now. But I’m gonna earn money for myself. _Kim Chaewon_ won’t be just a mediocre name anymore.” I had a feeling things would be like this. Kim Minjoo, I know you better than you know yourself. “I’ll be someone you can have an affair with. No, someone you can just be with, Minjoo.” Because you would’ve given everything up for me six years ago. I should do my best to be with you now, then. Right?

“I won’t… I’ll take what I want from now. I won’t settle for anything less anymore.”

Minjoo looks away, because what can she say to that? What can she do about the storm of butterflies filling her chest? How could she ever take in the intensity of Kim Chaewon’s eyes at once? She keeps her lips bitten, afraid that she might ask. _Are you starting a company for me? Just to be with me? Are you doing this for me?_ Why do her eyes answer. Yes, yes, yes. Across her face spreads a lazy smile, something inexplicable overpowers every other emotion.

She wraps her arms around Chaewon’s frame, leaning into her body. “I’m sorry.”

A warm hand sweeps down her back and comes to caress the dark locks cascading down her shoulders. 

“You’ll have to wait, though. Maybe… five years, give or take.”

The floor is cold because it’s granite instead of carpet. Soft touches come and go. The floor is hard and cold but her warmth makes it bearable.

“Five years? Aren’t you being a little cocky?”

“It’s not challenging if I take more than five years, is it?”

“If you want it to be a challenge then you should take lesser time than that. What, will you really make me wait _five years_ to be with you?”

“Fine. Five years is my deadline. We’ll be together some time within the five next years.”

Challenging. Leading her on. Always, Kim Minjoo. “And if we’re not? What if you never find success, at least in the next five years?”

“That’s not going to happen.” She stares down at her with a grin. “How can you be so sure?”

“I believe, that’s why. We’ll end up together, somehow. You can’t resist me for that long, anyway.”

There’s no denying the truth. So, she cups Chaewon’s face and presses a kiss on her cheek, innocently. “What was that for?”

“Good luck.”

“I think I’ll need more luck than that.”

“Well, that’s all you’ll get.”

Minjoo tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, looking at her in amusement.

“So five years later, we’re going to have an affair.”

“Let’s make it public. You know, like—, creating a buzz in the country.”

“Is that a good idea, though?”

“Yeah. First, we go on friendly dates frequently enough for the media to take notice. Because we used to go to the same college and all. And then we just need to be caught doing something romantic.”

“Hm, like what?”

“We could…”

It’s a bit ridiculous to be planning for a date five years in the future, but that doesn’t stop them from doing so. Because they believe. They believe in love.

I think that this is an extraordinary love—no, I believe it is. An extraordinary love built from pain, heartbreak, selflessness, devotion. Filled with a push and a pull at all times, maintaining equilibrium, every instance. This must be the best love story out of all cycles of endless love stories. I think theirs is the best love story out of all love stories.

No, this is the best love story out of all love stories. The story of Kim Minjoo, Kim Chaewon. The story of Kim Chaewon, Kim Minjoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> When you can write an au within your own au... my brain is so big  
> This chapter is like 27k words long and that's only 4k words less than all the previous chapters together omfg so no wonder it took me so long to update aha...  
> There's lots of mentions of things like karma, life and death, the cycle of life and death, etc., these are concepts in Hinduism that I thought it would be nice to integrate into this chapter and sort of explain Chaewon's behaviour through these concepts.  
> The subtitle "Moksham" can be translated to liberation from the cycle of life and death btw. Since these are all terms related to a religion, I used them vaguely while writing so I wouldn't have to mention the presence of any god-like figure...  
> In general, Moksham is supposed to be attained by showing intense devotion and selflessness towards a god-like figure but here Chaewon has a change in personality from wanting to live a life having no challenges and being bitter about life to becoming selfless and wanting to challenge herself because Minjoo challenges her belief of wanting a comfortable life.  
> So, it's like she attains Moksham because she loves Minjoo.  
> Chaewon's girlfriend is Yiren kinda because Yiren is her ex in the greek mythology au by user eyesonemi on twt I love that au and also because Yiren kinda looks like Minjoo...  
> It's mentioned that Yiren is as close to Chaewon's ideal type as anyone can be so I was tryna allude to Minjoo being Chaewon's ideal type and all lol also Chaewon indeed never calls Yiren 'baby' because Minjoo is literally the only one she'll call baby  
> Oh and if you want a more aesthetically pleasing read I'd suggest reading on aff on PC because ao3 uses the same boring font and I can't change the text size :/  
> Frank Ocean's Ivy goes well with this chapter imo  
> I think that this will be the last update in a while because things are getting busy these days, not sure when the next update will be either.  
> Regardless, I'm grateful for all the attention this story has got thanks for reading up until this point!  
> If you're still reading this a/n Merry Christmas Happy New Year and you are obligated to leave a comment saying how good this chapter is btw it was hell to finish writing it (...please)


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